


Kitsune

by WolfStar4



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Ninjas, Alternate Universe - Past Lives, Canon Het Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, Dragons, Explicit Language, F/M, Female Antagonist, Female Protagonist, Japanese Culture, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Kidnapping, Kitsune, Non-Explicit Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Psychological Torture, Racism, Racist Language, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Recovery, Ruined wedding, Samurai, Shinobi, Torture, Weapons, female samurai (onna-bugeisha)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-14 00:05:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 22,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2170386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfStar4/pseuds/WolfStar4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. It's Rosalee Calvert's wedding day, but her happiness is cut short when her fiancé Monroe is kidnapped. Now Rosalee must find her missing groom while coming to terms with her past, not only in this life, but in a previous one in Feudal Japan, with the help of her friends, family, and a little ancestral intervention.<br/>Contains violence, noncon/discussions thereof, racism/discussions thereof, language, and an extended look into Monroe and Rosalee's past lives together. Particularly triggering segments will be noted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wedding Day

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came about before the finale of the third season of Grimm, completed as a project for Camp NaNoWriMo July 2014.  
> Bree Turner, the actress who plays Rosalee, looks very much like a Japanese national the author met while living in Spain, which informed a large portion of this story. I researched as much as I could, and absolutely no offense is intended in the course of the story; however, if something is described or used incorrectly, please let me know and I will fix it.  
> All characters are property of their respective owners (ie, NBC Universal for most, OCs are mine).  
> Feedback is appreciated! Please R&R.

Rosalee Calvert stood patiently as her maid of honor, Juliette Silverton, fussed with her veil. Rosalee's sister, DeEtta, had taken their mother, Gloria, down to the ceremony site. Rosalee desperately wanted to pace, expend this excess energy... she smiled slightly. That was Monroe rubbing off on her. She closed her eyes and sighed, imagined him in the suit she'd seen hanging in the closet; he was over six feet tall, lanky but strong. She imagined his dark mass of slightly curly hair slicked back, and his hazel eyes shining, as they often did, with love for her. He was such a big guy, but he really was a big puppy at heart: excitable, loyal, sweet. Unlike any other Blutbad she'd ever met. And he loved her. For all her faults, past and present, he loved her. Her big, sweet goofball fiancé, who, in less than an hour, would be her big, sweet goofball husband.

"There!" Juliette said finally, drawing Rosalee from her thoughts. The redhead held a small mirror up, and Rosalee looked herself over. Her big, dark brown eyes met her reflection's before flitting to her hair, the veil perched within a mass of tight, dark curls. Tears welled in her eyes. She looked like a bride. She smiled. 

"How do I look?" she asked quietly. Juliette smiled back widely. 

"Perfect. Beautiful." Rosalee gently wiped away her tears, while trying not to ruin her makeup.

"You think he'll like it?" Juliette laughed.

"You know he'd love anything you wore today as long as the two of you were married at the end of the day. I'm sure if you walked down the aisle naked..." Rosalee started laughing. 

"If I walked down the aisle naked, he wouldn't go through with the ceremony, because he'd grab me and find the nearest quiet spot to... well, you know..." They giggled together. Rosalee's Fuchsbau nose picked up a new scent. Nick. The Grimm came around the bend, sunglasses perched on his nose. It was a bright, sunny day, and Nick now looked like the most sensible one in the bunch with his sunglasses, which he was wearing to hide his "Grimm woge". Nick pushed the sunglasses up to his forehead to take a better look at the ladies. His eyes settled on his girlfriend for a long moment before he turned his attention to Rosalee with a smile. 

"Wow, look at you!" He took Rosalee's hands and looked her over, eyes following the details of Rosalee's dress. The beading sparkled in the sunlight.

"Did Monroe send you to spy on me?" the bride laughed.

"Yeah, he wanted to make sure you were doing okay. So you're not thinking of running away or anything, right?" Rosalee smiled and shook her head, curls bouncing.

"No! I wouldn't do that to him! I'm ready for this! How's he holding up?"

"Wearing a hole in the ground pacing. Or, you know, a normal Saturday. But I'll go let him know you're not..." The rest of Nick's words were drowned out by a large explosion in the direction of the ceremony site. Rosalee woged, soft red and white fox fur covering her features in her surprise, and Nick grabbed Juliette protectively as she shrieked. 

"Shit!" Nick growled, taking off running toward the tower of smoke, Rosalee and Juliette following close behind. 


	2. The Missing Groom

The scene was absolute chaos in the wake of the explosion; many Wesen guests were woging in utter panic. Thankfully their panic was not made worse by the presence of the Grimm, whose sunglasses hid the deep, infinite darkness of his eyes. Nick, Juliette, and Rosalee found the tent where the men had been getting ready in flames, and Hank Griffin, Nick's partner in the Portland Police Department and Monroe's other attendant, crawled out. Once safely away from the burning wreckage, he sat in the grass, bringing a hand to his bloody forehead.

"Hank? Hank, are you okay?" Juliette shrieked as the three of them surrounded him, kneeling on the grass. Hank blinked a few times.

"Are you talking to me?" he asked. He stopped, put a finger in his ear, and then asked again, louder, "ARE YOU TALKING TO ME? MY EARS WON'T STOP RINGING!" Juliette whipped out her clutch, containing her "Wedding Emergency Kit" and started cleaning off Hank's forehead with an alcohol wipe.

"Stay here," Nick muttered to Rosalee as he made his way toward the flaming tent. Rosalee suddenly realized she didn't see Monroe anywhere. She looked around wildly, hoping he would appear.

"He isn't in there!" Hank shouted at Nick's back. "I don't know where he went, but he isn't in there!" At that moment, the tent collapsed and just beyond it, a movement of white caught Rosalee's eye. Rosalee jumped up, made three large paces, and grabbed Nick's arm.

"Look!" She pointed at a tree near the explosion site; a paper flapping in the smoke-filled breeze. A glint of metal at the top caught Rosalee's eye, and she ran over to it.

"Rosalee, be careful!" Nick shouted, running after her. The Fuchsbau and the Grimm arrived in front of the tree, and found a piece of fancy notepaper covered in dense block of precise Japanese kanji characters being held up by a star-shaped shuriken. Rosalee skimmed the words while Nick pulled the ninja star gingerly from the bark with a tissue.

"Nick, be careful," Rosalee echoed as she snatched the paper.

"What the hell is this?" Nick wondered aloud.

"Japanese. It says Kitsune. Me. They took him because they want me." She grabbed his hand and all but dragged him away from the fire, back toward the mass of panicking wedding guests. "Evidently, I have a score left unsettled. Look," she pointed at the glyphs, 'an eye for an eye.' She shook her head, trying to stay calm. "I have to find my mother." They didn't need to look far, as everyone was now gathered around the fire. Some were on their phones with the fire department while a doctor was looking Hank over. Rosalee found Gloria in the kerfuffle with Monroe's parents, Bart and Alice. Alice was in a state, tears welling up in her blue eyes.

"Where is my son?" she sobbed as her husband woged in anger, turning to Nick, grabbing the smaller man by the knot of his tie.

"What the hell is going on, Grimm?" he hissed. "Did you set this up?" Nick raised his hands defensively.

"No, Sir, I had nothing to do with it! Honest!" Rosalee put a hand on Bart's arm.

"He's telling the truth." She held out the paper, and Gloria snatched it, reading with brow deeply furrowed. Bart and Alice looked over her shoulder.

"What the hell is that? Chinese?" Bart asked

"Japanese," Gloria corrected, her answer clipped. She read the note and her face went pale. "Oh, no! A husband for a husband... Rosie, what did you do?" The two Vixens looked at each other with growing panic.

"I don't know!"

"But what does it say? That can't be all it says! Where is my son?" Alice whimpered. Gloria looked at her daughter, then back at the paper as she began to read.

" _Kitsune, I trust you are happy on this day of your wedding. However, you owe me a debt: a husband for a husband, an eye for an eye. I came to collect; however, there is much more to settle. Find him if you can!_  Rosie! Who would do this?" Rosalee's calm façade was cracking, and her terror began to shine through.

"I don't know, Mom!"

"Did you tell him who you were?" Rosalee nodded. Gloria sighed.

"Well, mom, we're friends with a Grimm, conduits for the Wesen Council, and a bunch of other stuff, so I figured he deserved to know what else might come back to haunt us... I had to!"

"No, I understand, honey... I told your father before our wedding, too."

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Bart interjected, "but what the hell is even going on here?" Gloria stood a little taller.

"Bart, umm... Rosalee and I come from a long line of onna-bugeisha and shinobi..."

"Umm, can we get that in English?" Juliette asked. Rosalee exhaled forcefully as she dropped her eyes.

"Umm... well... I used to be a... well, a ninja. And somebody clearly thinks I owe them something..." Rosalee looked up to find Nick, Juliette, Bart, and Alice all staring at her with the same open mouth. Hank looked confused.

"What?" he asked. Rosalee knelt again to his level.

"HOW'S YOUR HEARING? GETTING BETTER?" she asked.

"A little... why is everyone looking at you funny?"

"IT'S A LONG STORY, BUT WE NEED TO GET YOU TO THE SHOP." She stood and helped Hank and Juliette to their feet. Alice grabbed Rosalee's arm.

"But what about Monroe?!" Rosalee took her future mother-in-law's hand and squeezed it.

"I'll find him, but I'm going to need my notes and some... other stuff. Trust me, okay? I'm going to find him."

"No," Nick interjected, placing a gentle hand on Rosalee's shoulder. "We're going to find him."

"We have to get back to the shop... where the hell is DeEtta?" Her question was answered by her sister's appearance at her side.

"Jesus, Rosie, I just pop into the bathroom and all hell breaks loose... Anyway, 911 is sending somebody for the fire..." The older sister looked at the group, lingering on Alice's tear-streaked face as the gravity of the situation hit her. "Rosie... where's Monroe?"

"I don't know... We need to get to the shop. And Nick, you might want to call Trubel, because if this is as bad as I think it is, we're going to need all the help we can get."


	3. The Truth Comes Out

Teresa Rubel met the group at the shop, and they all gathered inside. Rosalee bustled around without a word, pulling out ingredients to make Hank's ears stop ringing. DeEtta and Gloria trailed behind, trying not to tread on the train of her wedding dress. Once all of the ingredients were gathered, Gloria started mixing the concoction as Rosalee continued to walk around the shop, pulling things out from seemingly everywhere: weapons, powders, and notebooks, endless notebooks, handing them to DeEtta. After a few passes around the shop, Juliette finally stepped into the bride's path and stopped her.

"Okay, Rosalee, I know you're upset, but why don't you change out of that dress before you ruin it?" Rosalee looked at her friend uncomprehendingly for a moment before looking down. Sure enough, the ivory lace and beading mocked her. She wasn't supposed to take it off; her husband was, with gentle kisses and roaming hands as they sealed their promise to each other.

"Oh," she whispered, tears peeking out of the corners of her eyes. She turned abruptly and went into the bathroom. She and Monroe both kept spare changes of clothes there just in case. Rosalee unzipped the dress and let it fall. She closed her eyes, and for a moment, imagined his large, strong hands running along her skin; she imagined his prickly beard on her neck as he kissed her ear... The tears were fighting to be allowed to fall. She needed him back. She couldn't lose him, not like this. Vision blurred, she hung up the dress and opened the drawer with their spare clothes. She quickly pulled on her spare jeans, but instead of her own sweater, she grabbed his flannel shirt, shoving her nose into it to smell him. His scent calmed her. It was entirely too big for her, but she didn't care; she needed something, anything, of his close to her. She wiped her eyes on his sleeve and went back out to the others.

Gloria was finishing up with Hank when Rosalee came back out of the bathroom. She, Juliette, and DeEtta wore matching looks of pity; even if Juliette couldn't smell like a Fuchsbau, she could still tell by the sheer amount of fabric hanging off Rosalee that it was her fiancé's shirt. Juliette took a step toward her friend.

"Here, let me get that for you," she said sadly as she unpinned Rosalee's veil. Rosalee's hair fell in tight curls as her shoulders shook. The last vestige of her bridal outfit removed, she blinked hard. Gloria mimed to Hank to hold some cotton balls in his ears before she embraced her daughter around the waist.

"It's okay, Rosie-chan. You can be weak; we'll protect you." Rosalee looked around at her friends, who all nodded in agreement before she buried her face in her mother's poofy hair and wept. Bart, Hank, Nick, and Trubel looked on awkwardly as DeEtta, Juliette, and Alice wrapped themselves around Rosalee in a big group hug. Nick and Trubel shared an impatient glance before turning to Rosalee's notebooks. Trubel flipped open a notebook and found a solid block of kanji Japanese with some drawings of weapons and plants. Not helpful. She showed it to Nick, who rolled his eyes. He was getting better with reading German, but Japanese is a totally different animal... They'll just have to wait for Rosalee to pull herself together. Nick was about to turn to Monroe to ask if he knew any Japanese, but remembered (thankfully before he opened his mouth) that Monroe wasn't there. Oh, right. But a realization washed over Nick in that moment like a kick in the face: Rosalee felt like this was all her fault, but it was partially his, too. He was the Best Man; it was his job to take care of the groom. He left Monroe and Hank; if he had been there, he could have stopped them... But he was checking on Rosalee to ease Monroe's doubts... ugh, this was so complicated. Nick looked up and noticed Rosalee looking at him; even through her own intense sorrow, she seemed to sense what he was feeling as she disentangled herself from the big group hug. Gloria took the opportunity to check on Hank, pulling the cotton balls from his ears and testing them by snapping her fingers. Hank broke into a relieved smile for a moment before standing. Apparently whatever Gloria had put in his ears worked. Meanwhile, Nick and Rosalee met in the center of the shop; the Grimm took the Fuchsbau into a tight embrace, and Nick felt himself begin to tear up a little as well.

"Rosalee, I'm so sorry! If I had been there..." He buried his face in her curls with a slight sniffle.

"Nick, I don't know if you could have stopped them. You don't know who we're dealing with..." Bart finally reached the end of his patience and exploded.

"Then can you please tell us what the hell we are dealing with? I'm tired of this cryptic... weird... shit! You're a ninja? What is this?" Gloria stepped away from Hank and toward the Blutbad patriarch.

"Yes, Bart. Rosalee was a ninja. And so was I." Bart's anger gave way to confusion.

"But..."

"Yes, I know we don't look it, but I'm half Japanese and Rosalee and DeEtta are a quarter. My father was a guard at an internment camp here on the West Coast during World War Two. One of the women there was a beautiful Japanese maiden, my mother. The realized they were both... well, in Europe we say Fuchsbau, but in Japan we are called Kitsune, as we inspired the legends of shape-shifting fox women. Anyway, they realized that they were the same sort of Wesen, and that turned my father's heart. They fell in love, and he protected her and her family from abuse. After the War was over, they married and had me and my siblings... we're considered what is called Jomon Japanese, from the south of Japan. Rosalee actually looks just like my mother, but with lighter hair, with the big eyes and the more European-looking features... " she waved her hand as if to shoo away an unnecessary train of thought. "Anyway, my mother came from a long line of onna-bugeisha... that is, female samurai, and shinobi, ninja. She was trained in the ways of our ancestors, as was I. As was Rosalee." Bart's mouth was hanging open, and he shook himself.

"And you said my son knew about this?" Rosalee nodded.

"Yes, but as I said, apparently I left something unsettled. I thought I had tied up all my loose ends..."

* * *

Rosalee should have realized he would notice. He was, after all, one of the most detail-oriented people she knew. About a month after Rosalee moved in, a section of unpainted plywood wall in the basement started getting small gashes in it. Soon, a small portion of the wall about as large as Monroe's hand was splintered. It couldn't be bugs, but what was it?

Whenever Monroe would come home from working a case with Nick, he would go straight downstairs to change his clothes, especially if it was one that required getting his hands dirty. One night, after a particularly nasty case involving a Skalengeck, Monroe went downstairs, pulling off his flannel shirt that now stank of blood and less-than-hygienic Lizard Man. As he passed the wall, a glint of light caught his eye. His blood ran cold to see a cross-shaped blade sticking out of the wood. Oh, God. He hadn't seen or heard Rosalee when he came in... Before he could stop himself, his voice raised in panic.

"ROSALEE! ROSALEE WHERE ARE YOU?" He ran up the stairs blindly and nearly bowled her over at the top.

"Honey, honey, what?" she asked as he grasped her tight, running his fingers through her hair.

"You aren't hurt, are you?" he asked, looking her over. She cocked her head.

"No? What...?" He grabbed her wrist and dragged her downstairs. He pointed at the blade. Rosalee paled.

"Oh, that." She walked over to the wall and easily removed it. She turned to Monroe and bit her lip. "Monroe, umm, I have some things I need to tell you..." The couple stared at each other for a moment before Monroe finally spoke.

"So... you're the one leaving the holes in the wall." It was not an accusation, nor was there any trace of fear in his voice; if nothing else, he sounded relieved that a puzzle had been solved.

"Oh, you noticed..." He raised his eyebrows. Duh. She held it flat in her hand, offering it to him. "It's a shuriken. Be careful, it's very sharp." He gingerly picked it up and examined it.

"So you're a ninja?" he asked quietly, his face for once unreadable. She nodded, avoiding his gaze.

"My family... we started as onna-bugeisha... female samurai, but yeah, we kind of did evolve into shinobi..."

"Throw it! I wanna see!" Monroe's serious façade cracked, and the excitable puppy came to the surface. She carefully took the weapon back from him and, with a flick of her wrist, embedded it in the wall. She turned back to him, and he swept her into his arms, kissing her deeply.

"That was so hot!" he whispered when they parted. "My girlfriend is a ninja!"

"Was," she corrected, putting her ear to his chest, seeking out his heartbeat. "I retired. I just like to keep my skills in tune in case they're needed."

"Wow..." he certainly seemed taking this well, at any rate.

"You aren't upset I didn't tell you? Or mad or anything?" His grip got tighter around her waist.

"No, this is... This is really cool. It also explains a lot... And it's actually really sexy..." He captured her lips in a desperate kiss, and she felt his lust growing, throbbing against her waist.

"Actually..." she breathed, walking her fingers up his bicep, "I have a few moves I could show you..."

"Is the end result us in bed naked? Because if it is, I am a hundred percent here for that!" Rosalee disentangled herself from his embrace in one swift movement and was already at the foot of the stairs. She turned, and gently shook her head; her fox features came to the surface, and she winked one glowing gold eye before darting up the stairs. He growled slightly before he followed her.

* * *

"And you said my son knew about this?" Rosalee nodded.

"Yes, but as I said, apparently I left something unsettled. I thought I had tied up all my loose ends..."

"Did you ever kill anybody?" Bart asked, crossing his arms. Rosalee raised her eyebrows and gestured toward her notebooks.

"I kept a record of all my targets. Some of them were in a sort of mercenary capacity, but most were not for profit. Most were on behalf of others, not for my own advancement or protection. Most. Many of them were not outright kills, more like... very strong threats." Bart turned to Gloria.

"And you did this, too?" Gloria nodded.

"But I retired a long time ago... and times were different back then. However, I may or may not have used my skills to protect some of my friends when they were dodging the draft." Bart nodded his approval.

"I think I can respect that... so what do we need to do to sort through these notebooks? It looks like a lot." Rosalee made a face and clucked her tongue.

"Unfortunately, there isn't a lot you guys can do..."

"Why not?" Alice asked. Her agitation was still apparent, but she seemed to be getting tired. Trubel grabbed a notebook from the pile and held it open for Alice.

"Unless you can read Japanese?" the younger Grimm supplied. Alice put a hand to her forehead.

"Oh my God, my son... they're going to kill him..." Gloria put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"They won't. There is a certain degree of honor still, and they will likely not kill him without giving Rosie the chance to find him and fight for him. He is a prize... and I mean that in the best way possible... Juliette, dear, could you perhaps make Alice a cup of tea to calm her nerves?" Juliette appeared at her other elbow, leading her toward the small Bunsen burner Rosalee kept in the shop for boiling water. Bart sighed and followed his wife, asking for a cup as well. Gloria, Rosalee, and DeEtta divided the pile of notebooks and began to look through them as the others milled around.


	4. Rin

Rin Mori studied her reflection in the mirrored countertop of her store; her shiny black bob is getting a little long, she should probably cut it again. She sighed, adjusting her white kimono, watching the embroidered golden dragons flow and snap. Some college students were wandering around the shop, trying to decide on last-minute purchases. She had received a text around noon stating that the operation had been a success, and now she was waiting for five pm so she could close up and go verify the job was done. She opened her private drawer and pulled out the newspaper clipping for the thousandth time. Yes, Rosalee looked just like Rin remembered; however, the man she was engaged to was rather funny-looking in Rin’s estimation. He looked older, with a big nose and poofy, curly hair. Probably Jewish. She had come to the conclusion that he was either wealthy or extraordinary in the bedroom; either way, it would sweeten her revenge that much more. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if he was both? Dear Rosie-chan was going to regret what she had done...

“Umm, excuse me?” Rin looked up to find the college students were standing in front of her holding some toys from the Studio Ghibli collection.

“Yes?” Rin glared down her sharply pointed nose as the girls. Two were blonde, Americans. The third was not Japanese… wider, flatter nose, somewhat darker skin… probably Korean. Their dresses were not squarely in one of the Lolita subgenres she was familiar with, but they looked somewhere between Classic and Gothic, with a large number of brass gears and buckles... what was the term that was really popular right now? Steampunk? Perhaps that was more what they were doing. Rin wanted to gag. ‘ _Oh, yes, sooooo kawaii,_ ’ she thought to herself.

“Why are these so expensive?” the taller blonde asked.

“Because they’re imported directly from Japan. We are the only shop in town that carries authentic Miyazaki merchandise.” ‘ _And because we know you idiots will buy it_ ,’ she finished in her head. The blonde girls turned to the Korean.

“Could you get your parents to send us some instead? We can give you money?" The Korean girl swallowed. Rin smiled slightly. Time to have some fun.

“Oh, you’re an exchange student?” she asked. The girl looked up at the woman like a trapped animal, eyes pleading, begging not to be outed as a fraud. “Where are you from?” The girl dropped her eyes. Rin asked again, this time in Japanese. The girl’s shoulders began to shake as her companions looked confused. Rin switched to Korean. “I said, where are you from, you lying, ill-bred dog!”

“I am from Seoul! I grew up in Gangnam!” The taller American cocked her head.

“Isn’t Seoul in South Korea?” The exchange student started crying. “Why did you tell us you were from Japan?”

“Because Japan is so much cooler to you Americans than Korea! And because whenever anyone says Korea, you start talking about the stupid “Gangnam Style” and Kim Jong Un! It is stupid and embarrassing! And it is not as if you can tell us apart anyway! I could be Chinese, Japanese, Mongolian, Cambodian, Vietnamese, and you stupid Americans would not know the difference!” The blondes blinked at her.

“Wow, okay,” said the shorter one. “We thought we were your friends, but I guess we’re too stupid. Come on, Sarah, let’s go.” The two blondes turned on their heels and quickly left the shop, leaving their plushies on the counter. The Korean girl watched them leave, wiping her eyes.

“Felt good to say, didn’t it?” Rin asked. The girl turned back to her. “Felt good to admit the truth, yes?”

“I am not sure how to feel right now… they were my only friends here…”

“You don’t need them. You don’t need anyone. But it’s closing time. Get out of my face,  _burikko_."  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kawaii - An aesthetic where the goal is to be cute, very popular in Japan.  
> Burikko- Japanese slang meaning "pretending child" or "faker"


	5. Remembering the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains discussion of racism.

Back in the Exotic Tea and Spice Shop, Rosalee and her mother were skimming Rosalee's notes without a problem, looking for targets who had been husbands; it was not a lot to go on. DeEtta had to keep asking them for help, as her understanding of the language was never that good to begin with. Nick, Hank, and Trubel concentrated instead on all the weapons and powders Rosalee had pulled out; Trubel and Nick whispered quietly about looking to see if there were any throwing stars in the trailer. Juliette flitted around, refilling tea cups. It was slow going, and the sky quickly grew dark. At one point, DeEtta mistranslated yes another word, getting confused, and sighed loudly:

"Ugh, fucking Japanese." Gloria swiftly reached over and slapped her older daughter up the back of her head. "Damnit, Mom, WHAT?"

"That attitude is precisely why Rosie got the training and you didn't! You have always been so disrespectful of your heritage! The language, the arts... you were always so Eurocentric! That sort of attitude of European superiority is how our family ended up in the camp to begin with, and if we let that attitude continue, who's to say it won't happen again?" DeEtta sighed.

"Ugh, sorry." Hank snorted a little. Gloria turned to him, eyes flashing gold.

"What's so funny?"

"No, it's just... I've gotten speeches like that from my parents before, too. More than I care to admit, actually." Nick cocked his head.

"Really?" Hank nodded.

"My parents met in a jail cell after be arrested during a sit-in; my grandfather was nearly lynched when he came to bail them out. All my life, it has been about showing the white men you're just as good, if not better, and not to stand for anybody putting anybody else down, because if it happened once, it could happen again." Gloria nodded.

"It's a good lesson to remember."

Hours ticked slowly by, and Rosalee was still looking through her notebooks, ignoring the offers for food from her companions. She wasn't hungry; she just wanted Monroe back. At some point, in an effort to feel useful, Hank, Juliette, and Trubel had gone on a coffee run. Around 11:30, after some whispering with Bart and Alice, Gloria lightly touched Rosalee's arm, causing the younger Fuchsbau to jump and woge.

"Honey, we should go home."

"No, we need to find him..."

"Rosalee," Alice appeared at her other side, "we know you want to find him. We do, too, but it's been a long, trying day. We should go home and wash up." Rosalee looked from Monroe's mother to her own, then to Bart. He nodded. Rosalee realized they were alone in the shop.

"Where did everyone go?"

"Honey, they left over an hour ago. They said to call in the morning. And DeEtta got too frustrated, so she went back to your house." Rosalee felt the tears in her eyes again as her mother led her out of the shop and into the car. They arrived at Monroe's house after driving in silence, not even the radio turned on. DeEtta met them at the door. Rosalee bid her mother and… well, they were not officially her in-laws yet… Bart and Alice goodnight, climbed the stairs and flopped down heavily onto her bed. Their bed. Rosalee did not want to sleep alone in this bed on what should have been their wedding night. She tried to fight her exhaustion, but her eyes were heavy. She curled up facing his side; she took his pillow and held it close, burying her face within it, breathing his scent, pretending it was him. But it wasn't him. And she wept.


	6. The Nightmare Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains bondage and non-consensual touching.

Monroe awoke, freezing cold, with a screaming headache. He attempted to put his hand to his aching head, but his arm was pinned above his head by bitingly cold metal. He craned his neck to look at his arms, seeing his wrists trapped under a long metal bar. He slowly came to the realization that he was naked on a metal table. He attempted to move his legs, and found that they were chained, but he could lift them a little bit. As he set them back down, the chains made a deafening clank that made his sensitive ears hurt; a deep breath in, and his sinuses burned, not picking up any scents from the environment. He wondered if something was wrong with his eyes or if the lighting was just exceptionally dim, before finally coming around to the important questions: Where am I? Why am I here? Why am I naked? Is this that weird James Bond dream again? Because if it is, Goldfinger really stepped up his game.

A woman appeared in a doorway he hadn't gotten around to noticing yet; she was tall, thin, and Asian, with a black bob haircut and deep red lipstick. She wore a white kimono covered with golden dragons, which sparkled in the low light. She regarded him silently, walking around the table. She ran a hand along his bare chest, trailing uncomfortably close to his... Monroe woged and snapped.

"Who are you? What do you want?" he snarled. The woman at first seemed taken aback, but when she collected herself she began to laugh. It was a cold laugh, as one makes when they notice a glaring error in an important document made by somebody they dislike greatly, full of schadenfreude instead of mirth

"How predictable... So you're the soon-to-be Mr. Rosalee Calvert, huh?" Monroe narrowed his eyes at the woman.

"What if I am?" She laughed again.

"Rosie-chan and her wolves... that is certainly a mark in your favor, isn't it?" She began to rub his chest again, and Monroe tried in vain to avoid her hands.

"Look... umm, ma'am... I don't know who you are or what the hell is going on, but I kinda need to get home. This has been... well, not fun, but really, I must be getting... OKAY, NO! STOP TOUCHING ME THERE! NOT YOURS!" He moved his hips and knees the best he could to cover himself, baring his teeth again. and she frowned slightly.

"Oh really?" With much more force than he expected, the woman held his legs down. He was not perfectly flaccid, but he was obviously not excited enough for her to get what she wanted. She climbed up onto the table with him, and he again tried to avoid her touch, failing miserably. She sat herself on his knees, taking his manhood into her hands. He bucked under her, trying to throw off her balance, but her tight grip on his sensitive parts put a stop to that.

"OW! Holy hell, what is your issue? GET OFF ME!" She does not respond, staring intently at her hands as they stroke. He wasn't getting any more interested.

"You are quite the gentleman, aren't you?" She asked, opening her kimono. If fell from her shoulders, and Monroe turned his eyes away. He shouldn't look. He didn't want to look. She wasn't Rosalee. She wasn't his... fiancée? Wife? Had he actually managed to get married? He couldn't remember. The tip of his left thumb ran along the length of his ring finger, meeting only skin. Not a good sign; either he'd missed the wedding or he'd lost the ring, both equally disheartening.

"What day is it?" he asked suddenly, hazarding a look at her. She was entirely too skinny for his taste, and he definitely preferred women much... curvier; this woman looked barely legal. She stopped and looked at him questioning. She thought for a moment before she responded.

"Monday." Monroe's panic began to rise again.

"I was out for two days?" She nodded. He cleared his throat and took a few breaths. Calm. Calm. But it was hard with this creepy woman still touching him like that.

"It's Monday night. No sign of dear little Kitsune yet..." She was surprised when a look of understanding crossed his face. She had been hoping for confusion, that he wouldn't know what she was talking about, so she could tell him his precious love was a cold-hearted killer. But no, he already knew.

"Oh, so you know Rosalee from her ninja days... okay..." Rin growled in frustration, slapping him hard on the thigh. "OW! FUCK!"

"Ugh, you are hopeless! And much too talkative! We'll try again at another time." With that, she climbed off the table, shrugged her kimono back on, and walked out without another word. Monroe sighed heavily, willing himself to wake up from this nightmare.


	7. Alone

Rosalee woke from a fitful sleep to an empty bed, still curled around Monroe's pillow. As she sat up, she wondered where he had gotten to before remembering that she didn't know where he was. Had she any tears left, she would have started crying afresh. She felt emotionally exhausted as she dragged herself out of bed, still wearing Monroe's shirt. She padded down the stairs to find Bart, Alice, Gloria, and DeEtta sitting at the dining room table. Alice stood and took her future daughter-in-law into a hug. Bart pushed a box of doughnuts and a carton of coffee in Rosalee's direction, and she nodded her thanks.

"You get any sleep?" the older Blutbad asked. "You look like hell." Alice slapped his shoulder, but the dark circles under everyone's eyes betrayed that none of them had slept very well, either. Rosalee reached up to run her fingers through her hair and found it sticky from leftover hair gel and spray. The Fuchsbau made a face.

"How about you get a shower before we go back to the shop?" Gloria suggested quietly. "Don't worry, we'll save you a doughnut. Take a shower, get dressed, and we'll rally the troops, okay?" Rosalee nodded and walked away. As she began to climb the stairs, she heard Bart grumble:

"I still can't believe this. I can't believe she would put him in danger like this."

"Hush, Bart," Alice chided, "You know she already blames herself."

"And why shouldn't she?" Gloria answered him.

"Because Rosie gave up that life years ago. She... fell into some problems... and probably didn't think she had left any threads dangling. She couldn't have realized this would happen, and I think you should avoid saying that to her. If she's going to get him back, she needs to be of sound mind. If she doesn't have that, she will make mistakes and get herself, Monroe, or both of them killed."

"Yeah, but we need to find him first," DeEtta interjected.

"Do I need to slap you again, Missy?" Rosalee sighed quietly and continued her climb up the stairs.

Upon reaching the bathroom, Rosalee pulled off her jeans and underwear and stood looking in the mirror; Bart wasn't kidding, she looked like hell. Her hair was a tangled birds-nest of sticky curls; her eyes and nose were still red, and she had to summon a great deal of effort to finally pull off Monroe's shirt. This wasn't where she was supposed to be. She was supposed to be in a hotel room right now, preferably screwing her husband's brains out, trading kisses and basking in the glow of being newly married. Rosalee stepped into the shower, turned the water on as hot as she could stand, and curled up on the floor of the tub, letting it run over her skin. She vaguely remembered sitting like this before, many years ago, after she lost her virginity... well, "lost her virginity" was putting it exceedingly lightly. She hadn't been a willing participant in the act... Rosalee shoved that memory from her mind, concentrating instead on making the goopy mess of her hair revert to its normal state. Instead of using her usual, jasmine-scented shampoo, Rosalee decided to use Monroe's. It wasn't perfumed, but had a very distinct chemical bite that her Fuchsbau nose could feel at the bottom of her sinuses. She lathered her hair, scrubbing deeply to the scalp, hoping that the fingers in her hair would help ease the ache in her heart... it didn't. She allowed the shampoo to sit as she cleaned the rest of herself off, and eventually the water began to run cold, soothing her red-tinted skin. Rosalee stayed in the shower until she was pretty sure it would start raining ice cubes, then rinsed her hair out and climbed out of the shower. She wrapped herself in Monroe's towel and fell back into their bed; still the tears would not physically come. She looked over at his nightstand, smiling sadly at the framed picture of the two of them he kept there. It was from about two years ago, before they even started dating, and he had been embarrassed the first time he invited her up to his room, but Rosalee thought it was sweet that he wanted a picture of her nearby. She pulled the picture off the table and held it to her towel-covered breast, curling around it with a sigh.

' _Damn it, Rosalee_ ,' she told herself after a few minutes, ' _you ARE NOT HELPING HIM like this. You need to get your carcass out of bed and fix this..._ '

"But it's my fault..." she whispered out loud. Her inner voice didn't back down, taking a much harsher tone inside her head.

' _That very well may be, but this is not getting him back. And you will get him back. Get your ass out of bed, drag a comb through your head, get dressed, and go find him. You need to be his hero.'_  Rosalee sighed, pulling the photo back to look at it; Monroe's smiling face, with eyes sparkling with love even before she had officially agreed to go out with him. He had loved her seemingly since the moment they met... and Rosalee had to admit that she was pretty sure she had loved him, too. The first time they shook hands, it was as if everything in the world had become brighter even as she was mourning Freddy. His warmth, kindness, gentleness, and trust in the Grimm had given her a sense of ease she had not felt in a very long time. She had saved him by bashing a would-be shooter over the head with a brick; he returned the favor in kind many times over, protecting her when she was unable to protect herself.

"I'll find you, I promise," she whispered, putting light fingertips on his photo's chest before sitting up.


	8. Prying Questions

Monroe felt warm hands touching him, drawing him from his sleep. Rosalee was frisky this morning, and he welcomed it after that strange nightmare. He tried to move his arms to capture her in a hug, but couldn't. He smiled in his waking fog.

"Honey, did you tie me up again? You should at least let me.." he opened his eyes, and found himself staring at the Asian woman from the night before, this time wearing a red kimono. She had her hands on his manhood again, and a glint in her eye. Monroe once more tried to shake out of her grasp. "Oh, God, what is your problem?" She frowned as his promising erection softened.

"Damnit..." She growled.

"Well, umm, sorry, but that is... um... reserved... for... not you..." He desperately tried to pull himself together mentally. Logic. Maybe he could convince her to talk it out. "Look, okay, so you knew Rosalee during her ninja days, right? So obviously you must be out for revenge... you know, like the movies... but seriously, what did she ever do to you, and why am I wrapped up in this? Because honestly, it's not like you couldn't go to her shop or something..." She stopped, looking confused.

"Shop? You mean her brother's shop in Chinatown?"

"Umm... yes?"

"Is that where she's headquartered now?" He nodded. "She took it over?" He nodded again. A look of understanding crossed her face. "That explains why we lost our biggest competition..." Rin schooled herself back into business mode.

"So, what's your problem with Rosalee, anyway?" Monroe attempted again. Rin narrowed her eyes.

"You are very persistent with your questions aren't you?" Monroe laughed nervously.

"Oh, you know, just... curious about... things..."

"Well, I will tell you this much, then. You, my dear sir, are bait." Monroe's face went blank. "If I go to her shop, she has the advantage; but if I make her come to me, then I have the advantage. You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't you?" Monroe gulped and nodded. "Good. Then we have an understanding. Goodnight." With that, she once more left the room, weaving through the tunnels to the elevator. She pushed the button to go up and entered her shop. It was almost 10 am, time to open.


	9. Intervention

Sunday dragged slowly in the Spice Shop. Bart and Alice spent most of the day on the phone with the airline, trying to cancel their flight back east. They couldn't leave yet. DeEtta and Juliette were delegated to the task of note-taking as Rosalee and Gloria continued to sift through Rosalee's books. Nick and Hank were called to another crime scene, leaving Trubel behind. Nick squeezed Rosalee's shoulder as he left, promising to check with forensics for any updates regarding fingerprints on the shuriken and note.

As the sky grew dark, Rosalee had narrowed the lists in her notebooks to about twenty-five possibilities. Trubel looked up from a notebook of kanji and drawings, her eyes wide.

"You killed them all?" the young Grimm asked, looking at the Fuchsbau in awe. Rosalee dropped her eyes.

"No, I tried not to kill if I didn't have to. The majority of these men ended up... emasculated."

"Oh. Wow. No offense, but you really didn't strike me as that type. You just seem so... Nice. Motherly. Like, you're the first Wesen who didn't try to kill me."

"What about..." Rosalee stopped herself, fighting to say her lover's name. Trubel paled.

"No, no, I'm sorry! Please don't cry again! He was defending himself, but I was scared... I'm sorry!" Rosalee raised her hand for silence, pushing her feelings back down. The cold, suffocating pain was overwhelming for a moment, and she felt herself sway. A pair of strong arms steadied her. Bart.

"I think that's enough for tonight, Rosalee, you're going to make yourself sick." Rosalee looked at the faces surrounding her: looks of sympathy, pity, and Trubel, odd one out, her face glowing with admiration.

Rosalee nodded slowly, allowing them to guide her out of the shop to the car. Once home, she once more climbed the stairs to her empty bed. Gloria promised to make her some soup and bring it up. The cold, empty blankets hid Rosalee's face, and she wept once more.

Rosalee did not know how long she had been crying; it could have been a few moments, it could have been hours, but somewhere within her consciousness, she heard a voice.

"Do not cry." The voice was a convergence of many voices she had known in her life: she heard her mother and father, her Aunt Jeanette and Uncle Henry, Freddy and DeEtta, Nick, Juliette, Trubel, Hank, Bud, Phoebe, her friends, as if they all spoke at once, but without the usual dissonance that comes with a din of voices. Each voice could be heard clearly if she focused. She strained her ears, listening for one voice in particular. Monroe. Please, let me hear his voice, she begged wordlessly. The voice seemed to take her wish into account, for when it spoke again, it was Monroe's voice alone, echoing through her mind.

"Honey, don't cry." Rosalee felt much calmer.

"Where are you?" she whispered, pulling the pillow tighter. It was her anchor, as she felt herself floating, nearly weightless in her own subconscious.

"You need to find me; but you must know, this is not the first time we have been separated. It has happened before, and it may happen again. Do you remember your Sobo's stories?" It was strange hearing Monroe using Japanese words, but Rosalee ignored it.

"Yes. But there were so many..."

"The story about Natsuki?"

"The Kitsune who was stolen from her love and fought until she was reunited with him."

"Yes. That was us in another time."

"Are you sure?" Rosalee felt like a fool asking, but her logical mind was being taxed by the surreal situation.

"Of course I'm sure. Would I make up something like that?"

"No, I guess not..." Rosalee conceded.

"You need to see these memories; they will help you find your strength. You need to find me, Rosalee."

"But..."

"Please. It's a lot, but your Sobo pulled a lot of strings to make this happen." Rosalee took a deep breath.

"Fine. Show me."


	10. The First Look Into the Past

In many of Sano Natsuki's memories, he was there. It was as if he had always been part of her life. 'He' was Ishii Daichi, and his family lived next to Natsuki's. In her earliest memory, the two were walking along the edge of his father's koi pond when they spied a crane eating some of the fish. Knowing how much Ishii Nobu treasured his koi, four-year-old Natsuki picked up a stick and jumped into the water to defend them, not realizing how deep the water was or how heavy her yukata would become when wet. Five-year-old Daichi saw her flailing, and yelled at the top of his voice, scaring away the crane and drawing their fathers out of the house. Sano Kyou waded into the pond to retrieve his daughter, while Daichi and Nobu stood on the grass. Kyou picked up his daughter, told her to calm herself; when she had, he then placed her back in the water. Her panic gone, she found that the water came up to her chin. Kyou picked her up once more, and deposited her on the grass next to Daichi. He then squatted to their level, looking them both in the eye.

"The lesson I wish for you both to learn today," he began in his quiet, gruff voice, "is that bad situations become worse when you panic. Instead of flailing about in times of trouble like a fish without water, be the calm in the chaos. Find your head, and you will see that a solution is there. Do you understand, children?" Both Natsuki and Daichi nodded, and Kyou took Natsuki's hand. He bowed to Nobu, before taking the girl home to change. As the Sanos left, Nobu turned to Daichi.

"What was she doing in the water, anyway?"

"She was trying to defend your fish from a crane." Nobu laughed.

"She is a fighter already! Her mother would be most proud, wouldn't she?"

"Yes, sir."

XxXxX

Rosalee watched as the years fast-forwarded, dryly musing to herself that she was getting the  _Christmas Carol_  treatment.

"Well, whatever works, right?" Monroe's voice asked her. "Otherwise it will take too long and he will be lost to you in this life. Only important bits, enough for you to get the whole story, yes?"

"I suppose..."

XxXxX

The next moment was at a point when Natsuki appeared to be about 7. Natsuki and Daichi were in the Sano home; Natsuki was showing Daichi her mother's armory.

"Why doesn't your father use them?" the boy asked as he examined a small dagger. Natsuki shrugged.

"Father is not much of a warrior. Also, I think he misses her too much to touch them. Hey! Look at this!" Natsuki pulled a large wooden club out. It was nearly as tall as she, and had spikes on the end. A kanabo.

"Wow! Can you even pick that up?" Daichi asked. Natsuki mustered her strength, and found she could lift it... however not for very long, as it came crashing back down, slashing Daichi in the face. The boy screamed, and blood started pouring from his forehead. Natsuki threw down the weapon and grabbed a cloth, holding it against his head to try to stop the bleeding. Kyou suddenly was at her side. He took a look at the scene and knew what had happened, so he begged Daichi to calm himself. Once Daichi was no longer screaming and struggling, they found that the cut was not very deep, but it would probably leave a scar. Natsuki apologized over and over to her friend, crying for causing him pain. Kyou looked over his wife's arsenal, cursing to himself. Before his beloved Michi had ridden off to battle, she made him promise that if she did not return he would have Natsuki trained as soon as the little girl could lift her beloved kanabo. Kyou had sworn, not realizing they would be the last words he exchanged with her. He had tried to keep Natsuki from it, but now it was too late and he had to honor his wife. He had to contact Okawa Akio.

XxXxX

"Now, there you were able to hear some of Kyou's thoughts." Monroe's voice echoed as the scene paused like a movie. "You are being granted special opportunity to see and hear things that you yourself were not present for, so you will get a better understanding."

"Why are you showing me this?" Rosalee asked miserably. While it was interesting to be sure, it didn't seem particularly helpful.

"I know it doesn't make a lot of sense right now, but you need all the help you can get. You need to see these things... do you trust me?" Rosalee did, and the scene began again some two months after the kanabo incident.

XxXxX

Okawa Akio agreed to meet with Kyou. In order to get Natsuki out of the house, Kyou gave his daughter a wooden comb for her hair and told her to go next door to the Ishii household to decorate it, as they had a much better selection of paints. Natsuki took the comb, bowed respectfully to her father, and ran next door. Nobu was expecting her, and smiled as he set her up with some paints and inks and a few scraps of paper for Dachi to practice writing. He then left the children alone. They worked in silence for a while before Daichi looked up from the characters he was writing, looking at Natsuki's countenance of intense concentration. He watched her steady hand drag the paint along the dark wood, and soon appeared the image of a sleeping white fox with seven tails curled around it. She gently blew cool air onto the paint to encourage it to dry as she switched to a finer brush and prepared her black paint. When she was satisfied the white was dry enough, she outlined her fox with a thin line of black; she detailed the tiny sleepy face with closed eyes and a nose before tipping the ears and seven tails with black. She then drew some lotus flowers around her Kitsune. When she was satisfied with her work, she turned it to Daichi, who smiled.

"It is lovely, Natsuki-chan! You paint so very well!" The little girl looked shyly up at her friend before impulse got the better of her and she kissed his cheek, noting how he smelled of paper and ink. A blush darted across Daichi's cheeks, and he put a hand to his face as Natsuki giggled. "Natsuki-chan has honored me with a kiss! I must honor her back!" Daichi threw his arms around her neck as Natsuki laughed louder, trying to squirm out of his grasp. He remained steadfast, and he touched his lips to hers. As soon as he did, though, Natsuki went still in his arms, and they kissed as lovers reuniting after a long separation. And in truth, they were: Daichi and Natsuki were another lifetime for a pair of souls that had been entwined almost since the beginning of human consciousness itself. In their lifetimes before and in many of the lifetimes since, they met much older, so the spark of recognition was met by cynicism and doubt; but here, in the purity of childhood, that spark was as bright as a flare in the night, and they knew without a doubt that they were meant to be together. Their kisses were sloppy, lacking the nuance that comes with practice, but both felt as if all was right with the world. They were interrupted by Daichi's mother, calling them to let them know that it was time to eat; they parted, sharing a shy smile, before scurrying to the table, leaving Natsuki's comb to dry.

XxXxX

While Daichi and Natsuki were realizing their love for one another, Kyou was negotiating with the leader of one of the most feared Samurai families in the region. Okawa Akio had trained and fought with Natsuki's mother, and had a pair of sons of his own who were about the same age. Kyou showed Akio to his wife's armory, and the other man picked up Michi's kanabo with a sigh. It was heavier than he remembered.

"Yes, I remember how she loved this thing... Always preferred it to a blade."

"That is why you always allowed her to deal with traitors and spies," Kyou commented flatly. He never did care for his wife's role as enforcer and interrogator, as his own stomach was weak at the idea of torture, even for information. Akio laughed.

"Indeed. And she was very good at it. Now how old is your daughter?"

"Seven."

"So she has not yet had her first change?" Kyou shook his head.

"At least not that I have seen, nor has she mentioned it, but Michi swore she is also a fox." Akio nodded again.

"Even if she is not, she is still from... Well, good stock on her mother's side, at least. I always thought she could do better..." Kyou bit his tongue. This was certainly not the first time he'd heard he wasn't good enough for Michi. But she loved him, and argued and fought to be with him. Maybe he was not worthy, but she was gone now and he was raising their child, so that had to count for something.

"And what sort of payment shall I be receiving?" Akio's frank question drew Kyou back to the present.

"I am sorry?"

"Payment, Sano Kyou. I will be feeding, clothing, sheltering, and training your daughter for at least ten years! These things are not cherry blossoms that can be plucked from just any tree! I need a return on my investment!" Kyou's mouth hung open. Surely Akio knew he was not financially able to offer much... "What would your wife say if she were here right now?" Akio wondered aloud, and suddenly Kyou had a vision of his Michi before him, looking just as she did the day she died... She disappeared, and Akio stood once more where she had been. Kyou felt the tears in his eyes. Michi. He couldn't let her down...

"How many sons do you have?" he finally asked. "And are they all promised?" Akio thought a moment, a manic smile spreading over his features.

"You are willing to offer your daughter as a wife for one of my sons? That is rich! After you encouraged Michi to break her own betrothal for you?" Kyou's face burned with his shame.

"I do not fail to see the irony, Akio. But Natsuki is all I have." Akio nodded.

"Very well. She shall be betrothed to my younger son, Tatsuya. My wife is again with child and we are not sure if it will be a boy or girl, but Natsuki shall be wed to either my second or third son depending on prospects."

"What about your first son? Is he already promised?" Akio shook his head.

"No; however, again, it all depends upon prospects. We are hoping for our first son to have a little... better luck. I am sure you understand." Kyou sighed.

"Very well. I agree." Michi appeared once more, laying a gentle hand on his arm.

"You are doing the right thing," she said softly, and Kyou reached for her. She was solid under his fingers, warm, and in the very much alive. Kyou pulled her close to him and embrace. However when he looked again, Michi was no longer there; instead, he saw the face of Akio, looking at him as if he had lost his mind. And in truth, Kyou wondered if he had.

"Then it is settled. I shall come to collect her at dawn."

XxXxX

After Akio left, Kyou went to retrieve his daughter from his neighbors' home next door. As he came around the side of the house and found his daughter locked in a tight embrace with Nobu's son. The children were kissing each other desperately, and Kyou remembered with a pang that he had in fact fallen in love with Michi at about their age... He almost hated to stop them.

"Natsuki-chan! Come, it is time for supper!" Natsuki and Daichi shared another embrace before she ran to her father. He nodded to Daichi, who bowed slightly in return. Kyou took his daughter's hand and led her away. Once they were out of earshot, he looked down at her.

"So you and Daichi seem to be becoming very good friends, aren't you?" The little girl nodded.

"Perhaps I will marry him one day!" The little girl smiled up at her father; it pained him to see the affection shining in her eyes.

"Perhaps," he answered quietly. Poor child didn't know what life had in store for her and for the little boy; it was very unlikely that their paths would ever cross again. As for marriage, now she was promised to one of Okawa Akio's sons. Hopefully they were not too terrible... it was unfortunate, Kyou did like Daichi very much... he is brought out of his thoughts by tugging on his sleeve. She was waiting for the answer to a question he hadn't heard.

"I'm sorry my dear, what?"

"What is for supper?'

Kyou spent the rest of the night very close to his daughter, knowing that at dawn she would be gone. Natsuki suspected nothing when she laid down in her own bed for the last time.

XxXxX

The next morning, Kyou woke Natsuki up before sunrise, bidding her get dressed and pack a small bag. Natsuki did as she was told, wiping sleep from her eyes as she gathered the things her father indicated, including what appeared to be a folded red fan. Natsuki cocked her head when he held it out to her, and he pulled it apart: in reality, it was a tanto.

"This was your mother's," he said quietly as he handed it to her with a forced smile.

"Father, what is going on?" He sighed deeply.

"You are leaving. Okawa Akio will be here shortly to retrieve you." As if on cue, there was a knock from outside, and Kyou froze. It was time. He made sure his daughter had everything before taking her hand. Another impatient knock came, and they hurried to answer it. Kyou opened the door and a large, severe man swept into their home. He was very large, broad-shouldered, bald, with a moustache and short beard. Natsuki found herself wanting to cower away from him, but her father held her away from his leg.

"Sano Natsuki, may I present Okawa Akio." The little girl bowed to the larger man, who bowed slightly in return, looking her over.

"She is much smaller than I anticipated."

"Her mother was very small as well, if you recall."

"Indeed." He knelt in front of the child. "Natsuki, I want you to hit me as hard as you can." The little girl cocked her head and looked to her father for guidance. Kyou motioned for her to do as she was asked.

"Are you sure?" she asked. Akio nodded.

"Hit me in the face." Natsuki pulled back and punched his cheek as hard as she could. The man fell backward, sitting on his lower legs, shaking his head and rubbing his cheek.

"Well, she certainly packs a lot of power into the tiny little frame. Very well." He stood and took the little girl's hand. "Come, little one, we are going to your new home." Natsuki turned to her father.

"Can't I say goodbye to Daichi?" she asked, tears filling her dark eyes. Kyou felt terribly, but he shook his head.

"No, my dear, it is better this way. You shall learn the ways of your mother's people. Do well, my love." With that he bowed to his daughter and turned away so that neither she nor Akio would see the tears forming in his own eyes. Akio gently tugged Natsuki out into the dawn.

They walked together in the growing sunlight, and Natsuki could not prevent the tears from slipping uninvited past her own eyelids. Why did she have to leave? Why wasn't she allowed to say goodbye to her friend? What did this man have in store for her, and what did the future hold?


	11. First Impression

Natsuki and Okawa Akio walked for what seemed like hours in the early morning. The little girl kept her eyes on the road and on her feet, doing her best not to display any emotion to the stranger: no fear, no confusion, no sadness. Finally they approached a large house set back from the road. An assortment of servant women came out to greet them, taking the small bag of Natsuki's personal items from Akio. Among the women was one who was very heavily pregnant. She stood a respectful distance from Akio, who finally turns to acknowledge her. He indicated the child at his side.

"Hana, this is Sano Natsuki, daughter of Michi. She is beginning her training with our sons." Hana said nothing, but bowed respectfully to the child. The little girl bowed in return. "Why don't you go see if the boys are awake yet. Bring them out to meet her." Hana bowed slightly once more before disappearing into the house. She returned some minutes later with a pair of boys, one appearing about 10, the other appearing 12, strongly built. The boys looked over the new arrival with great disdain written upon their features.

"Father," said the younger one, "isn't she a little young to be a concubine?" Natsuki decided in that moment she didn't like him. Akio thankfully rewarded his son's impertinence with a slap to the cheek.

"Tatsuya! That is indeed very rude! This is Sano Natsuki, and she will be training with us." The boys stood for a moment before they both began to speak it once.

"But she's a girl!"

"She's so small, we'll hurt her!"

"I do not want to train with her!"

"She cannot train with us dressed like that!" Natsuki said nothing, wondering what Daichi was doing today. She missed him already...

"ENOUGH!" Akio roared in a voice that startled Natsuki. "She will train with us and there is nothing you can do to stop it! Now, go get ready and we shall begin!" The boys grumbled as they turned away. Akio turned to Natsuki. "I hope you are ready, Natsuki, for the most difficult journey begins now."

* * *

 As Natsuki was becoming acquainted with the boys with whom she would be training, Daichi was wondering why he had not yet seen her. Usually she would have made an appearance by now, inviting him to play. Perhaps she was ill, or needed cheering up? The anniversary of her mother's death was fast approaching... Maybe she would let him kiss her again? Memories of the taste of her soft lips warmed his cheeks, and he made quickly for the door. He ran across the grass to the Sano home and knocked on the door. Kyou answered, his eyes red and wet. Daichi's smile fell.

"Sir? Is Natsuki ill?" Kyou shook his head, his eyes falling to the ground.

"No, my boy, she has been taken to train with her mother's people. And soon you will go to study. All of the children are leaving..." he sighed deeply. "She wanted to say goodbye to you, but it was much too early..." Sano Kyou looked up and found Daichi was no longer standing in front of him; the boy was running down the road to his favorite tree. The boy climbed it quickly, and Kyou knew he was looking for Natsuki in the distance. Daichi would not find her, and spent many hours that lovely afternoon sitting in the tree, shedding tears of his own for his lost friend.


	12. Growth and Death

Years passed quickly, and Natsuki grew and learned. She often found herself wondering what happened to her friend. Was he happy? Was he still tall and scrawny? Did his copper eyes still shine when he laughed? Thoughts of Daichi got her through her training with Tatsuya, his older brother Jun, and two other boys, Sora and Hiro. Hana gave birth to a daughter, who died shortly after. Akio said it was just as well, as Natsuki was difficult enough to raise, training her in very unfeminine ways; however, he did have to admit that they suited her. The boys would taunt her and pull her hair, but Akio encouraged her to hit them back, and she did so with great gusto. She also learned to use her smaller size to her advantage in speed, agility, and stealth. She had a high tolerance for pain, which was further improved by ritualistic cutting of her skin, first by Akio, then by Tatsuya and Jun, and finally by Natsuki herself. She became a skilled fighter, not only at hand-to-hand combat, but also a practiced wielder of katana, tanto, kanabo, and her weapon of choice, sai; she also inherited her father’s talent for mixing poisons and powders, something Akio had a grudging respect for. She grew and learned. She and Tatsuya were each other's closest competition even though he was three years older; Natsuki's first impression of him did not change, and she could not stand to be near him unless there was a possibility of being allowed to fight him. Natsuki then had her first change, becoming like a fox; Akio was overjoyed, and revealed his true form, a blue dragon with the ability to turn into other people for short periods of time. Tatsuya inherited those traits, too; Jun did not. Natsuki nodded, happy to become more like her mother in her master’s estimation. She continued to grow and learn.

* * *

When Natsuki was about fourteen, she was brought back to her ancestral home to see her father one last time as he lay dying.

"My little one," Kyou gasped as she approached his bed. Natsuki smiled sadly, and he reached out to her, running his fingers through her hair, which had grown long. He smiled to see that, like her mother, she had no interest in the helmet-like hair creations expected of the women of their society. Her hair was somewhat choppy in places, telling him that, also like her mother, she would braid it and then anchor in all manner of small, sharp object, turning it effectively into a flail  The rest of her body was a weapon, why wouldn't her hair be as well? She was petite, but lean and muscular, well taken care of... but there was something else, a loneliness in her eyes that he recognized from many years of seeing his own reflection.

“Father,” she whispered kindly, careful not to let her emotions show. She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You are so much like your lovely mother…” Natsuki allowed herself a slight smile.

“May I find someone as wonderful as you for a husband… if Akio will allow me to marry at all.” Kyou coughed and sat up.

“Why would you say that?” he wheezed. Natsuki shrugged slightly before wiping the beads of sweat from her father’s forehead.

“Akio says he is ruining me much the way Mother was ruined. His wife, Hana, is not a warrior. She stays home and does what he calls ‘womanly things’… however, I would rather not do that, so it is just as well that I am not promised to anyone.” Kyou sighed in relief. Akio must have rescinded his demand that Natsuki marry one of his sons; a huge weight lifted from Kyou’s chest at that thought. However, a pain seized through him and he sat up. Natsuki wrapped an arm around him. He gasped, seeing his Michi standing next to him. Michi motioned silently to their daughter. He spoke quietly.

“Do not let Akio force you to marry against your will. Your mother broke her betrothal and was happy. Do not let him tell you otherwise…” he gasped again, his lungs refusing to hold air much longer. “Do well… be happy… I will be with you… as your mother has been.” He shook in his daughter’s arms, and with a last rattling breath, he died. Natsuki breathed deeply to prevent herself from crying, although a few errant tears escaped; her father and mother were together again, and she was alone in the world with…

Wait a moment, she was not entirely alone! Natsuki laid her father on the bed, bowing respectfully to the healer and the undertaker, waiting outside his room. She slipped out the door and ran to the Ishii home next door. She knocked on the door, and Keiko, Daichi’s mother, answered; the years had been kind to her, and she smiled softly.

“Sano Natsuki! Look how you have grown! So much like your mother…” the older woman’s face fell. “Did your father finally pass?” Natsuki nodded, and Keiko embraced the girl. Finally Natsuki found her voice.

“May I please see Daichi? Is he here?” Keiko shook her head.

“Daichi went off to the monastery to study. I am sorry, dear, but he is no longer living here. If you would like…” Natsuki shook her head and pulled away.

“Thank you,” she whispered, making her way back to her father’s home, leaving Keiko standing in the doorway.


	13. The Monastery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natsuki is taken to a monastery to train, where she finds a familiar face.

“We’re making another jump. Natsuki will be around eighteen now, very well-respected and well-liked by most of the members of the community.” Monroe’s voice came again. “Akio believes that Kyou told Natsuki she was engaged to Tatsuya on his deathbed, so informed Tatsuya of the same. However, Tatsuya is not particularly fond of Natsuki, either. Natsuki is the only female he has ever met that does not fall for his charms.” 

“I can’t say I blame them, though. He’s rather good-looking…” Rosalee conceded.

“I’m going to ignore that.” Rosalee smiled, thankful that her grandmother’s sorcery or whatever was happening was taking into account how Monroe actually was, his speech patterns, how he would respond to the same things. It was comforting. 

“Winter is coming, and there is a period of peace in this area of Japan; however, Tatsuya’s… interest… in the servant girls at home has gotten out of hand, and Hana stands up to her husband and demands that they train elsewhere for the season. Akio publicly berated his wife, but in the end agreed that Tatsuya was being distracted from his training and his actual intended. He still believed that Tatsuya would fall in love with Natsuki, or at least she with him. They travel north, to a monastery run by a man from Akio’s past, who knew Sano Michi in life, called Iwao. Iwao and Akio do not get along, never did, but Iwao has fond memories of Michi. With me so far?”

“It isn’t that complicated,” Rosalee grumbled, “at least not yet. I still don’t understand…” Rosalee’s train of thought was stilled by the unfolding of a story in a new location, as the Okawa group arrived at the monastery where they would be spending the winter training. Akio rang the heavy bell and the large wooden door was opened for them. They were greeted by the head monk, Iwao. Natsuki looked the man over through her eyelashes as she kept her eyes respectfully cast down: he had very long, jet-black hair worn loose to his waist, and a long moustache without a beard. His eyes had a permanent narrow squint, as if he did not quite believe everything he saw and heard and was waiting for the universe to ease his suspicions. Akio and Iwao exchanged jerky bows, and Akio introduced the group. All of the male students gave a likewise short bow, but Natsuki gave a deeper, more proper bow, and Iwao gave her a smooth bow in return as well as a hint of a smile. He knew exactly who she was, even before his eyes caught the comb in her hair, painted with a sleeping white Kitsune.  Iwao led them inside with a flair of his robes. 

Once inside, Natsuki began taking in all of the details of this place she would be calling home for the next six months or so: the walls were high, but did not touch the ceiling in most places; The roof was held up by a series of columns that could probably be easily climbed, and there were many exposed wooden beams; there was a lot of red and gold, and there were many beautiful decorations. The group turned a corner to find a number of children seated surrounding another man in yellow, who was animatedly telling a story. The young warriors looked at Iwao questioningly.

"Orphans," Iwao explained. "We take in children whose parents need to leave them for whatever reason, so if you hear a bell ring in the middle of the night, that is why. We take them in, take care of them, teach them, and help them find their path in life. Many of the girls we find suitable husbands for, but most of the boys stay, becoming monks or scholars. Speaking of which, this is our central courtyard," 

Iwao gestured outside to where a large number of men and boys were congregated. Some were reading, some talking and arguing loudly, others were writing, and still others were doing something with fire and what smelled like gunpowder, causing a series of small bangs, much to the delight of a group of young boys. Natsuki stood and watched as her companions began to make quiet jokes about these weaklings, with thin arms and oversized foreheads. Iwao frowned and turned to the group. 

"You will find we house a large number of scholars and students who are making use of our extensive libraries. It is imperative that you will all let them and the children be. Is that understood?"

Tatsuya scoffed, and Natsuki rolled her eyes. Iwao wheeled around and looked hard at the younger man.

“Remember, young master, you are imposing upon my hospitality and my patience. Although the wells are deep, they are not infinite. You will not disturb any of my charges. Am I perfectly clear?” 

"Yes, sir," came a chorus of voices, including a grumble from Tatsuya.

Iwao showed them where they would receive and eat their meals, pointed out the libraries, and the room where they would be staying before he stopped in front of a door; the room inside was tiny, containing a bed, a bowl and pitcher, and very little else.

"This room shall be for Natsuki-kun." Akio looked taken aback.

"Why does she get her own quarters while the rest of us have to share a room?" Tatsuya asked rudely. Iwao stood a little taller and narrowed his eyes. 

"Because it is improper for a young woman to sleep in the same room as a young man who is not her husband, let alone three of them. We also feel she should not have to sleep among the children. The young lady will be quartered separately or not at all," Iwao said sternly. Akio sighed and waved his hand, wishing not to try his old acquaintance's patience on the first day.  

"Very well."

"I understand," Natsuki responded quietly, not entirely sure if Iwao winked at her when he turned and bowed to her..

"Well, that concludes our tour, and you may all have some time to rest and freshen up before dinner." 

Natsuki nodded and bowed to her master and her host before entering her room. It was actually very nice to have a little privacy for once. And it meant she could have some time away from Tatsuya and the other boys. Good. She flopped onto the bed, and found it to be rather comfortable. She would finally have a retreat of her own. 

Once she had unpacked her few personal items, Natsuki decided to practice her stealth maneuvers while exploring the sprawling monastery. She jumped up onto a wooden beam overhanging her quarters, and scurried along part of the roof before jumping down without a sound. Yes, she was getting much better at her landings! She then decided to swing around the pillar... and ended up kicking a young man with an armful of scrolls in the chest. The scrolls scattered along the floor as the young man tried to regain his breath.

"I am so sorry! I am very clumsy!" he panted, clearly startled.

"No, it is my fault! I didn't look where I was going!" Natsuki bent down to help him gather up his scrolls; their eyes met, and his copper brown eyes met her deep black ones. Copper eyes... she had only ever met one person with copper eyes like that... Could it be? Her heart leapt to her throat. His mother said he had been sent away to study... She cast her eyes downward as they stood, as was proper, but she couldn't prevent herself from asking.

"Daichi?" He stopped chasing a scroll and stood a little taller. 

"Yes... Do I...? Wait!” He bent down slightly to her level. “Sano Natsuki?" 

She nodded, biting her lip. She allowed her eyes to flicker upward, taking in as many details as she could. He had grown very tall and handsome, but a still thin. He smiled, and his eyes sparkled just as she remembered. 

"My, how you've grown!" 

His hair was still curly and wild-looking, and he had grown a full beard. The pair smiled at each other slightly before casting their eyes down again. 

"Are you lost?" he asked, a blush spreading against his pale cheek. She shook her head.

"No. I am training here for the winter. Is this where you study?"

“It is! Come, let me put these scrolls away and then I shall take you on a tour!" 

Natsuki followed him to the library. Once he set the scrolls down, he took her in an affectionate embrace. Natsuki felt a warmth like she had not felt in many years coursing through her as his beard scratched her forehead; he was more than a head taller than she. He put his hands on her cheeks and studied her face, looking deeply into her eyes, and Natsuki found herself doing the same. His complexion was still warm, so he probably still spent a lot of time out of doors, and he still bore the scar on his forehead from where she accidentally hit him with her mother's kanabo. She relished the warmth of his hands on her face as he brought their foreheads together.

"I have missed you so, my dearest friend," he whispered as they embraced again. "Are your quarters suitable?" Natsuki nodded, taking a deep breath in, remembering his scent and how comforting she found it; he still smelled like paper and ink... 

"Daichi, you have no idea how happy I am to see you..." They smiled at each other as Daichi took her hand, leading her back out into the hallway. He began to show her around, extrapolating animatedly about the architecture and the artwork in much more detail than Iwao had. Natsuki smiled, just thankful to again be in the presence of a friend again, when she smelled Tatsuya around the corner. She grabbed Daichi's arm in time to prevent him from walking into the other man. Tatsuya's eyes flitted from Natsuki to Daichi, and he scoffed. 

"New friend, Fox?" 

"No; an old friend. Daichi and I grew up together before I joined you and your father." The dragon man's eyes narrowed, seeing Natsuki's hand still on Daichi's arm. 

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you!" Daichi said, attempting to break the tension with a respectful bow. Tatsuya nodded his head; the disrespect did not go unnoticed. 

"Indeed," Tatsuya muttered before continuing on his way. Once he was out of earshot, Daichi turned to Natsuki.

"And who was that... charming fellow?" he asked quietly. Natsuki sighed. 

"That is Okawa Tatsuya. He is Akio's son, and frankly I cannot stand him. He's a brute, does not fight fairly, and he is the reason we are here. He says he has taken the maidenheads of all the servant girls in their home..." Daichi looked horrified, his mouth dropping open. He shook himself.

"That is... very... umm..."

"Disgusting?" Daichi nodded. 

"I'm sorry, but yes... does he love any of them?" Natsuki laughed coldly. Sweet Daichi, still as innocent as a child.

"Doubtful. I do not think he knows what love is, really. Akio treats his wife like a concubine; she is not allowed to make any decisions, and he makes her sleep on the floor when he doesn't want her in his bed.” Daichi looked confused; Natsuki remembered his parents always had a very affectionate relationship. Natsuki shrugged and continued.

“You know, I overheard him say once that he is ruining me as wife by training me. But I don't think I'm intended to be a wife. At least not to the boys I train with, because they know what I am like." Daichi turned and took her hand in his.

"And what are you like now, Sano Natsuki?" His touch made her ears burn.

"Well, what do you remember of me?" Daichi smiled broadly, gently touching his forehead to hers.

"I remember a brave little girl, calm in any situation, who had a hard time asking for things, preferring to just take them..." Natsuki laughed.

"Yes, I still do not ask very much. It is easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission, Daichi." The scholar snorted.

"Indeed." They rounded another corner and found Akio with Jun, Sora, and Hiro.. The older man did not acknowledge Daichi. 

"Come, Natsuki-kun, we are going out to the courtyard for sparring. Have you see Tatsuya?" 

"Here I am, Father," came a voice from behind Natsuki, intentionally walking between Natsuki and Daichi, knocking the taller man out of the way. Natsuki helped her old friend up, before whispering that she would speak to him soon. 

The group all went out into the courtyard, clearing a large space. Many of the children and scholars stopped playing and reading to watch. Daichi followed, and sat where he could watch Natsuki directly; she was still so tiny, especially compared to the boys. She and another boy Daichi didn't know yet (whom he heard the older man call Hiro) squared off first. 

Natsuki loosened her neck, tucking her long braid into the collar of her shirt. They bowed to each other, and Daichi watched his friend in a beautiful dance, blocking and striking silently as the boy she was fighting grunted loudly, clearly trying to intimidate her. Daichi smirked to himself, remembering that the Natsuki he knew was fearless; he was right, as she did not shrink away from her opponent. After a few minutes of ducking and weaving around Hiro’s strikes, Natsuki jumped, wrapped her legs around the boy's neck, and brought him to the ground. She then lightly dismounted and bowed. Daichi felt his face contorted into a smile that must have looked ridiculous, but he did not care in the slightest. Natsuki had learned much, and she was truly beautiful in her movement. Natsuki helped the boy up and they bowed to each other, signifying the end of the match. Natsuki looked toward Daichi’s direction and smiled. He waved slightly. It was wonderful to have her back again. 


	14. Attempted Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rin again attempts to get what she wants. *Here we start getting into some non-consensual sexual abuse. Reader discretion is advised, as some may find it triggering.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we start getting into some non-consensual sexual abuse. Reader discretion is advised, as some may find it triggering.

After Rin closed up the shop for the evening, she changed to a blue kimono and went back down to visit the Blutbad. She would have to try a different tactic to get him to submit. Before she rounded the corner, she shifted into Rosalee's form and walked into the chamber. Monroe started, turning toward her, his eyes full of desperate hope. _Aww, he really is just a big puppy, isn't he?_ Rin thought coldly to herself.

"Rosalee! Rosalee! Is that you?" he asked in a loud whisper. Rin smiled as she climbed onto the table. He reached for her, trying to hold her, but the metal shackles held fast.

"I'm here... you've been so brave..." She rubbed herself against his naked body, trying to excite him; however, the man was not so easily distracted..

"Rosalee, we gotta get out of here. If she comes back, she's going to kill us…" His panic level was rising, as was the pitch of his voice. "Please tell me you brought something to fight with? Or your lock picking kit?" Rin started kissing up his chest. "Honey? Honey, come on, get off me, we can worry about that later, we have to go! I don't know where my clothes are, and..." The dragon woman stopped his incessant talking with a kiss. His eyes briefly closed before he took a deep breath in; after a moment, they shot open and Rin felt his teeth turn to fangs against her lips. He bucked his body wildly, and Rin lost her balance. The Blutbad's eyes glowed angry blood red once more as she climbed off the table.

"You aren't Rosalee!" He spat as if Rin's kiss had tasted like poison. "You may look like her, but you don't smell like her! And you sure as hell don't kiss like her! What the hell is your problem?! What the hell are you?" Rin laughed before shifting back to herself. Monroe stared at her in utter mind-fucked panic. "Okay... okay, I have seen some crazy ass Wesen, but... just... what the fuck are you? That just... that's not normal!"

The woman shifted again, this time into a much younger-looking Gloria Calvert, then into the mayor of Portland, then into Clint Eastwood, then into Beyoncé. Between each shift was a ripple of red on her skin, as if the new person was bursting forth from within the previous. Alexander Hamilton. Queen Elizabeth the First. Queen Elizabeth the Second. A few more, and Monroe was standing in front of himself, in an outfit he recognized from his engagement pictures with Rosalee.

"Oh, God, it's like a horror movie!" the fake Monroe said to the real. "Imagine what I could do! I could rob a bank... assassinate a politician! I could go tell Rosalee that I don't love her and I never did... watch her break down into tears before I stab her in the heart!" Rin enjoyed the looks that washed over his face, from confusion and panic to pale, desperate fear. He was protective of his mate. Excellent.

"NO! No, don't do that! God, please don't do that!" She shifted back to herself.

"Oh, don't worry, I won't. When she comes for you... That is, if she can be bothered to do such a thing, seeing as it's already Wednesday night..."

"Wait, Wednesday? It isn't Tuesday? I thought it was Tuesday?"

"Oh no, my dear, the last time I came to visit you was Tuesday night…" She tilted her head as if thinking; he was easily convinced by her mind games. "Oh, your internal clock seems to be slightly off. Yes, it's been a few days. I wonder if Rosie even misses you? I mean, if I had taken her, you would have torn this city apart looking for her, yes? Would you have found her by now? I think you would have."

"No, she's looking for me! And so are my parents, and our friends..."

"Hmm, Mommy and Daddy Blutbad looking for their little pup? How do you know your parents didn't turn on dear Rosie? Clearly it's her fault you were taken. Not to mention a Fuchsbau bride for a proud, strong Blutbad. Are you sure they are not still angry?" Monroe froze. Did she actually know how his parents had reacted to Rosalee, or was she extrapolating? "Yes, perhaps that is why she hasn't come for you yet! Your parents killed her for putting their precious son in danger!"

"NO! They wouldn't do that... would they?" Rin shrugged.

"I don't know, they're YOUR parents... although I'm sure with the wedding ruined, they might have gotten hungry..."

"No... no. NO." Monroe woged and attempted to break the shackles on his wrists at the thought of his parents doing any harm to Rosalee. They had all made such great strides in understanding one another... Monroe let out a frustrated yell. Rin laughed again; he was beginning to really hate that sound, high, mocking, without the slightest hint of music like Rosalee's had.

"You're so fun to play with!" She cupped his face in her hands, squeezing his cheeks. "And your buttons are so easy to push! Unfortunately not the ones I'd like..." She once more ran her hand along his skin as she climbed up onto the table again. Monroe wasn't exactly sure, but it looked like she was going to...

"HEY!" he yelped as he felt her tongue along his manhood as her hand gripped the base. The warmth against him felt disgusting. He again tried to twist away from her, but her grip around him tightened painfully. "OW! Seriously, though, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she asked disdainfully. She put her mouth around him, and Monroe bucked his hips trying to get her off. She snarled and bit, causing a pain to shoot through him.

"FUCK! Ow... Okay, okay, you ob... obviously don't like doing this... so why are you doing it?" Rin shifted again into Rosalee.

"Because sometimes revenge needs to be just a little sweeter!" Monroe watched as this fake Rosalee put her mouth around him again,  but he knew it wasn't her. And that was certainly not her technique... and Rosalee usually took much more obvious enjoyment...

"JUST STOP. Please stop!" he yelled, attempting to sit up. She bit again, much harder, and Monroe was pretty sure he was bleeding. She spat him out, wiping her mouth.

"Just as well," faux Rosalee said, "I never did like to do that..." She shifted back into herself. "I think that is enough for tonight. Goodnight." She left once more, leaving Monroe writhing in pain, both physical and emotional.

_Where the hell are you, Rosalee_?


	15. What's In A Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natsuki and Daichi are spending a lot of time together...

The days passed; the winter was indeed harsh, and Akio encouraged his warriors to find ways to keep themselves occupied within the walls when not training. For Hiro and Jun, that meant learning meditation from some of the monks to keep their anger more focused so it would not come out at inopportune moments; Sora occupied his time learning to make gunpowder and conduct experiments with it, causing it to burn in beautiful colors and designs, much to the delight of many of the children; Tatusya mostly antagonized anybody who dared cross his path. Natsuki spent much of it practicing her stealth (including corners; she had not kicked anyone else since her first day) and sitting with Daichi as he studied. He would sit quietly for hours on end reading, but the stillness no longer bothered Natsuki as it had in her youth. His presence was a calm refuge amongst the flurries of snow and fists.

One day, as a gentle snow fell, Daichi was copying annotations from some of Sora’s experiments. He stood and turned away to look for another scroll containing information he thought was relevant to add to the notes. As he was looking, stroking his beard thoughtfully, Natsuki stole some of the paper and a brush. He noticed her mixing the ink and drew up behind her.

“Has your training made you forget how to ask for things?" His tone was much harsher than he intended, and Natsuki's shoulders slumped slightly as she pushed the scroll back. Daichi sighed. He had seen the way Akio, Tatsuya, and the others treated her, he shouldn't be surprised. She seemed to have to fight even to eat, which would explain her slight form. He decided to change the subject, placing the paper back in front of her. 

"I remember you used to paint very well… can you still?” Instead of responding, Natsuki quickly painted the outline of a dragon as Daichi watched, fascinated. 

“Beautiful… did you ever learn to write?”

“Only my name and my title.”

“Oh, you were granted a title already? Wow, you must be special!” She smiled, casting her eyes down at the paper. 

“Of course I am! You knew that! I am the Kitsune.” She wrote the characters. “And my name is Sano Natsuki.”

"Why do you write your name like that?" he asked as he intently watched her strokes. She shrugged.

"Because that is how I was taught. See, Na Tsuki. Green Moon." She looked up over her shoulder to find him frowning. 

"Those kanji do not suit you. This suits you better," He took her hand and guided the brush. Natsuki felt the warm tingle in her skin and was sure she must be blushing desperately. "Natsu. Ki. Summer Hope." Natsuki stared at what they had written together. The characters were beautiful. And his hand was still holding hers. Natsuki's mouth felt very dry, and she licked her lips. 

"Could you... perhaps... show me again?" she asked quietly. He guided her hand again to make the characters. 

"Now you try." 

He withdrew his hand, and Natsuki found herself faced with an odd dilemma: she knew she could replicate the strokes, but she wanted his hand on hers again. It was a strange sensation, but she  _ wanted _ to need him. She realized she was halfway through writing Natsu. She finished and looked up into his eyes.

"Could you help me with the Ki?" A small smile crossed his face, His hand encircled hers again, but he allowed her to write the character on her own. When she finished, he pulled her back gently so that her back was leaning against his chest. He brought his lips to her ear, leaning his cheek against hers. Natsuki was worried she would pass out from the sensations as he whispered in her ear.

"Lying is dishonorable for a warrior, and fairly unbecoming for a lady. If you wish for me to touch you, you need only ask." 

She turned and faced him properly, looking into his copper eyes. She lightly touched his cheek with her fingers. He closed his eyes and gently covered her hand with his own, holding her touch. Seeing the effect she had on him made her decide. Yes, she definitely loved him; she always had. She pulled his forehead to hers.

"You forget, dear, sweet Daichi-Kun... I do not ask." 

With that, she cautiously kissed his lips, hoping he would not pull away. He didn't, instead pulling her closer; the flame of recognizing their soul’s mate, felt so many years ago as mere children, was reignited. His usual restraint disappeared as his fingers tangled in her hair. The kiss deepened, and Natsuki wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling his body flush against hers. She wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms forever. Sometimes, when you do something monumental as a child, it seems much less special when you go back and do it as an adult; other times, it is just as momentous and life-changing as it was then, if not more so. When Natsuki and Daichi parted for breath, their lips still tingling, they both knew they were meant to be and always had been.

"I have missed you so, Natsuki," Daichi whispered, leaning his forehead into hers. 

“And I you, Daichi.” They smiled at each other for a moment before they once more threw themselves at each other, a tangle of lips, arms, hair, and silk. 


	16. Love Blossoms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natsuki and Daichi fall deeper in love, despite some threats from Tatsuya.

After Natsuki and Daichi reignited the flame of their love, they spent as much time together as they were able. Natsuki went from being the first to appear at the call to train to the last, sprinting with rosy cheeks. Akio thought nothing of it, for the monastery was very large; Tatsuya, on the other hand, was becoming suspicious. His future wife (a thought still made him want to gag) was getting suspiciously close to her "old friend", the big-headed, lanky weakling. On evening, Tatsuya watched them walk back to Natsuki's room, and the Kitsune pinned the human against her door, kissing him deeply. A pang of hot jealousy stabbed Tatsuya's heart; while he did not particularly want this woman, she was still his! The longer they kissed, the more anger bubbled within him. Daichi settled his hands on Natsuki's waist, pulling her closer, and she melted into him. Tatsuya decided he would have to destroy this human.

After what seemed like hours, Natsuki finally backed away and let the man stand. She whispered something to him before opening the door. They stole one more kiss, and she disappeared, closing the door behind her. The man stared at the door for a moment before turning, an incredibly stupid expression on his face. Tatsuya had never seen a man look like that, but it reminded him of a few of the girls whose virginity he had claimed, looking sick with infatuation and pretty thoughts in their heads that he would follow through on his promises to marry them, silly things.

The human was drawing closer, humming tunelessly to himself; he must be very proud of himself for attempting to take what should never be his. Tatsuya reached out of the darkness and snatched the man by the throat, throwing him against the wall. He made a surprised noise, gasping as the air left his lungs. His knees buckled, and he looked like he would collapse but for the hand on his throat. For the force he had just exerted, the dragon man spoke calmly and quietly.

"Leave her alone." Daichi still gasped for breath, but managed to choke out a response.

"Why?" His question was rewarded by a squeeze.

"I owe you no explanation. She is under my family's care, and I say leave her alone."

Natsuki sat on the edge of her bed, her hands clasped over her heart. She could not believe how Daichi made her feel: helpless, yet strong; foolish, yet wise in all things; and a desperate pang to not only make love to him, become one with him, but to bear a whole army of his children. She fell back to consult the ceiling, but her sharp hearing picked up voices outside of her chamber; they sounded oddly like...

She sat bolt upright, and then sprung from her bed to an overhanging beam. swinging up once more to the ceiling, and crept quietly along the edge of the roof; she found Tatsuya was holding Daichi against the wall by his throat. The much larger man looked terrified as Tatsuya's eyes flashed in the darkness.

"You will leave Sano Natsuki alone. She clearly harbors much affection for you, but you must leave her be... and if you will not, I will kill you!"

Natsuki dropped down onto Tatsuya's back. The fox woman and the dragon man scrapped for a few silent, breathless moments; Tatsuya was stronger, but Natsuki was faster and more clever. With a well-placed jump and twist of her legs, Natsuki had Tatsuya on his back on the floor, pinning his throat between her thighs. She leaned in close to him as Daichi rubbed his own throat.

"No, you leave him alone!" she hissed. This was not worth waking the entire monastery. "He is my friend, and I will not have you treating him like this!" Tatsuya looked up at Daichi and laughed.

"How does it feel, being defended by a woman? You really are a eunuch, aren't you? The castrated son of a castrated father!" Natsuki punched Tatsuya squarely in the nose and his head bounced off the floor. Natsuki rolled off of him as his nose began to bleed. Daichi instinctively kneeled, helping Tatsuya sit up and looking at his nose.

"I don't think she broke it, but I'm actually quite glad she's here to defend me, because she looks much prettier doing it that I would." Natsuki's eyes trained on the floor and she was pretty sure she was blushing. Daichi and his sweet compliments. Tatsuya slapped Daichi's hand away.

"Don't you touch me." He attempted to stop the bleeding with his sleeve, and his claws briefly appeared; Daichi's human eyes could not see them in the darkness, but. Natsuki could. She appeared between the men.

"Next time, I will break it," she hissed. Her demeanor softened as she turned to the other man, taking his arm "Daichi, I will walk you back to your quarters. Goodnight, Tatsuya." She put a gentle hand on Daichi's arm as she led him away, leaving Tatsuya still sitting on the floor. He waited there for Natsuki to reappear, but she never did, and he was awaked by Iwao at sunrise, having fallen asleep, bloody and sore, in the middle of the hallway.

* * *

After the incident with Tatsuya, Natsuki insisted on the two being more careful. They kept it kosher in the daylight, but once the night fell, they would trade silent kisses in the library closest to Daichi's quarters. Natsuki would then return to her own room by running silently along the exposed ceiling beams. But one day, she twisted her ankle during evening training, and Daichi helped her limp back to her quarters.

"It is not that bad," she muttered. "I have had much worse. In fact, I think I am fine." Daichi nodded; she already had stopped limping. She had always been a quick healer. Daichi looked behind him to make sure they weren't being followed before he spoke again.

"I know, You'll be right as rain in the morning… however, I need to discuss your touch of kleptomania, always taking without asking." Daichi pulled Natsuki to him, putting his large hands around her waist. Natsuki made an exaggerated pout.

"What did I steal this time?" she asked, feigning insult. Daichi pulled her hand up and placed it on his chest over his heart. All jests fled from Natsuki's mind with this single sweet gesture. His copper eyes glowed and the words seemed to come easily for once.

"You stole the only thing that I prize more than my intellect." Natsuki concentrated on how it beat beneath her fingertips. Daichi looked around once more and, seeing no one nearby, opened his kimono so that Natsuki's hand could rest on his bare skin.

"But... did I truly steal it? Or was it willingly given?" Natsuki asked quietly.

"That depends."

"On?"

"On whether or not you are willing to let me have yours in trade. I love you, Sano Natsuki. I am fairly sure I always have. You own my heart, but I really must know if I am allowed to own yours."

Natsuki pulled his hand up to her chest, letting it settle over her breast, praying fervently nobody would disturb them in such a compromising position... but she had to tell him what had been on her mind since they first kissed.

"Yes, Daichi, you have my heart as well, willingly offered in trade for yours. I love you, too." Daichi smiled as he pulled her into a deep kiss. Natsuki ran her fingers through his hair as she pulled him closer, trying to pour all of her affections out. Daichi backed her against a column, Natsuki ran her hands down along his neck, and found that his kimono was still open. She ran her fingers along the skin of his chest, feeling a warmth running through her like a bolt of lightning, and Daichi pulled away, red-faced and panting.

"Natsuki, I... umm..." Natsuki pulled his body flush to hers, and found he was incredibly excited. His face changed, becoming red and embarrassed. "Natsuki, I am so sorry..." She smiled as her hand lightly found its way his groin.

"You could be sorry... or... you could do something about it..." She raised her eyebrows, and Daichi stood for a moment, clearly not sure what to do. Natsuki finally grabbed his hand and dragged him into her quarters, closing and locking the door behind them. When she turned back to him, Daichi was standing stock-still, looking incredibly nervous.

"What?" Natsuki asked quietly as she drew closer.

"I've never... umm, well, are you sure you want..." The fox woman smiled, putting a gentle hand to his cheek.

"I do want this. And I've never, either. I'd rather it be with you, someone I love, than have it forcefully taken away from me by some conqueror."

"But what about your future husband?" Daichi asked even as he helped her pull his Haori off his shoulders.

"Potentially the same thing. I do not have a future husband. But I have you. And we have tonight."

Natsuki's words quickened Daichi's blood, and the feeling that made him pin her against the column earlier returned, and soon the two found themselves tangled in Natsuki's sheets, making love slowly and quietly. It was a strange new experience for both of them, but gentle kisses and loving touches were exchanged, sealing the bond between them. When they were finished, Natsuki pulled herself off her new lover as they both caught their breath.

"Wow..." Daichi commented, wiping a bead of sweat from Natsuki's brow.

"Indeed," she agreed.

"Preliminary experiments indicate that that is, in fact, an enjoyable activity. However, further tests may be required," Daichi whispered. Natsuki giggled and lightly pinched his arm.

"Yes, but not tonight. We need to get you dressed so nobody suspects..." Daichi held her close to him as he kissed her again.

"How is your ankle?" Natsuki lifted her leg, rotating her ankle. No pain.

"Fine." They kissed again, as Daichi stood and collected his clothes. He cleared his throat as Natsuki propped herself up on her elbows, her long hair sweeping over her breasts.

"Well, I look forward to the next time."

"As do I, my love." He leaned down kissed goodbye, but the kiss deepened and Daichi dropped his clothes, climbing back into Natsuki's bed, forgetting that he was supposed to be leaving. They made love a second time, again quietly exploring each other; when they finished the second time, they clung to each other. Natsuki noted the pleasant feelings running through her body; even the twinge of pain between her legs felt wonderful, knowing who and what had caused it. Her ankle was definitely better now. Daichi kissed her shoulder before pulling himself up, dressing quickly. When he was once more clothed, Natsuki sat up on the bed, and he sat beside her, brushing her hair away from her eyes.

"I love you," he whispered, giving her one last light kiss before he disappeared, closing the door behind him. Natsuki fell back against the bed, smiling at the ceiling. She couldn't recall feeling this happy in a long time; Daichi loved her, and she loved him, and he made her feel so many wonderful things. She drifted off into a happy sleep.


	17. A Proposal, and the Anger It Caused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daichi asks Natsuki to marry him; their happiness is short-lived.

The pair continued to steal moments together as the snows melted and the sun warmed the land. At first they sought to space out their silent midnight trysts, hoping to not arouse suspicion, but soon enough Daichi was in Natsuki’s quarters every night, worshiping the warrior’s body. Iwao suggested to Daichi that he teach her to read and write after bumping into him hastily leaving Natsuki’s quarters at an unseemly hour; far from being angry at their impertinence, the master instead helped the pair arrange time together. Natsuki was a quick study and a willing student, and she would trace characters on the skin of her lover as they caught their breath together. 

Soon, the trees shook of the last of the snow and small pink and white blossoms burst forth. One sunny day, as the blossoms were at their peak, Daichi and Natsuki went out into the garden by the small pond. Natsuki quickly climbed a tree as Daichi made himself comfortable under it. The Kitsune jumped from her perch, landing lightly in the grass at Daichi’s feet. She had a tuft of blossoms in her hand, and, in a swift movement, tucked some behind Daichi’s left. Then another behind his other ear. She snorted a little, scrunching up her nose before placing the remainder in his beard. She pulled him to his feet and led him over to the pond to gaze at their reflection. Daichi raised his eyebrows; he looked ridiculous. 

"It suits you," she choked out before dissolving into a fit of giggles. Her hair fell into her face, and Daichi reached up to brush it away. Truly, she had not been this happy since she was a child. He smiled slightly before taking a deep breath.

"Umm, Natsuki... may I... ask you something?" Natsuki's eyes flickered up to Daichi's, and he felt his nerves evaporate as he saw unrestrained adoration in her eyes. He dropped to his knees before her, taking her hand in his. Natsuki took a sharp breath in. "Natsuki, will you... Will you do me the honor of being my bride?" There was an intense silence, broken only by the whistling of a bird overhead as Natsuki stared at him. Surely he was joking! But his eyes did not shine as they did when he joked; indeed, he looked deathly serious. She would have to tell him what she was if she said yes… She was lost in thought, and Daichi began to panic, scrambling to his feet.

“I am sorry, Natsuki, that was very impetuous of me… I understand why you would not wish to marry me…” Natsuki shook her head slightly, confused.

“Who said I do not wish to marry you?” They stood for a long moment. “Daichi, do you honestly wish to marry me?” Daichi nodded before once more sinking to his knees.

“I can think of no greater honor that this life could bestow upon me than your continued companionship… and to have such a strong, intelligent woman bear my children would be a great blessing indeed.” Natsuki smiled and pulled Daichi to his feet.

“And I can think of no greater honor than to call you my husband! I will, Ishii Daichi, I will!” Daichi’s face broke into a wide smile as Natsuki picked him up and swung him around; when she put him down, they kissed fiercely. The blossom in his beard tickled her chin, and she smiled into the kiss; he smiled as well. When they parted, Natsuki led Daichi over to the worn stone bench. They sat together on the cold stone, watching the petals of the blossoms fall. Natsuki cleared her throat. She needed to tell him now, even before they asked permission from Okawa Akio. 

"Daichi... You are familiar with the legends of the Kitsune?" Silly question indeed; he knew her title, he had watched her paint her comb as children, but she needed him to see what she truly was. He cocked his head like a puppy.

"Of course... How could I not be?" Natsuki took his hand in hers.

"Do you believe them to be true?" Daichi shrugged, pulling her close to him. 

"I am not sure... I have never seen evidence, but I have also never seen Mount Fuji, either, and I know that is real... Why do you ask, dear one?"

"I need to show you something. I need to explain why I hesitated when you asked to marry me..." Natsuki's grip tightened. "Please know, though, it is still me..."

"What are you talking about?" Natsuki took a deep breath in and changes; Daichi's eye went wide and his jaw dropped, but he did not pull away from her. Instead, he tentatively touched her cheek. He smiled, fascinated, as he ran his fingertips over her fur.  He then gently poked her protruding fox ear with a finger; it twitched, and he chuckled, his eyes sparkling. 

"Natsuki... You are so lovely! Wow..." Natsuki nosed his hand gently. Daichi's hands began to pet the fur of her neck as he looked into her golden eyes.

"So you are not frightened?" she asked, her voice deeper than usual, He shook his head.

"No, it's still you. And it is not every day you see... And touch... proof magic exists!"

"Do you still wish to marry me?" Daichi wrapped his arms around her; his bearded cheek meeting her furry one.

"Absolutely! The Kitsune are said to be beautiful and faithful wives. As if you were not a fair prize before; now I shall never let you go. Natsuki, do you still wish to be my bride?" 

"Of course!" Natsuki shifted back to her human form. Daichi pulled her close and they kissed deeply. Natsuki ran her fingers through his curly hair as he pulled the smaller warrior onto his lap. The world seemed to stop around them, but someone was watching the young lovers as they kissed under the cherry blossoms; the man turned silently and made his way back into the monastery, his robes sweeping behind him. He needed to inform Akio of what his precious little fox girl was up to.

Natsuki and Daichi stayed out by the water until it was time for supper, trading kisses, holding hands, and talking about their future together. When they entered the temple hand in hand, the stern face of Okawa Akio greeted them. Natsuki’s smile faded. She dropped Daichi’s hand and she stiffly bowed to her master.

“Sensei.” Akio narrowed his eyes.

“Natsuki-Kun, who is this?”

“Sensei, this is Ishii Daichi. He and I were friends as children, and we found each other once more. He studies here, and…” Akio raised his hand. Natsuki fell silent.

“Is it true you were kissing him in the courtyard just now?” His suspicious tone frightened the young warrior, and she did not fear much. Daichi placed a gentle hand on her arm. Daichi, sweet, oblivious Daichi spoke up excitedly before Natsuki could gather herself.

“Yes! Natsuki has agreed to be my bride!” Akio’s face flushed, and his breathing became labored as Tatsuya’s did when trying to keep control; like father, like son.

“Natsuki, we must have a private word.” Daichi dropped his hand, but stood in the doorway, still grinning like a fool. Akio grabbed the Kitsune’s arm and dragged her away; Natsuki could feel his claws biting her arm through her kimono. This was not good. The Master led her into a room and slammed the door behind them. He then turned to Natsuki, and let his dragon-self burst forth.

“Sano Natsuki, how dare you! How dare you dishonor your training and your father’s wishes!” Natsuki shook herself.

“What do you mean? I merely agreed to marry my friend! I am…” The Master grasped her long braid tightly and brought his nose to hers.

“You, young lady, do not have the autonomy to make that decision! Did your father not tell you to whom you were promised? Did he not tell you the conditions of your training?” Natsuki’s eyes widened. Her father had never mentioned a betrothal.

“I am already betrothed? To whom? I want to break it! Advise me! How might I break my troth?” She did not expect the clawed hand to slap her across the face, leaving shallow scratches in her cheek.

“You will do no such thing! We have practically raised you for ten years, and you repay us like this? You bring us dishonor! Your father asked us to train you to be a warrior like your mother, and we have done so! In return, you will make a bride for my fine Tatsuya!” Natsuki paled.

“No,” she whispered.

“I know what you think of Tatsuya, but you will see that it is most advantageous breeding; your children will have the strength of the Dragons and the cunning of the Foxes. It is perfection, and I will not have you throw it away because that… that… HUMAN, that... Eunuch!... with his head full of poetry, thinks that he loves you!”

“But…” Akio struck her again, and Natsuki fell to the floor.

“I will not accept your impertinence! You will tell that Human that you cannot marry him. You will not speak to him again! You WILL marry Tatsuya and bear him many strong children! You will do as I say, or you shall be cast out into the cold and your ancestors will weep at the dishonor you bring down upon them! Is that clear?!?” 

With that, the man turned and stormed from the room, leaving Natsuki on the floor shaking. 

How could her father barter her like that? What was she going to tell Daichi? How was she going to live as Tatsuya’s bride? The very idea made her skin crawl. 

She was trying so hard to prevent herself from crying that she didn’t hear him come in; indeed, she didn’t notice him at all until he knelt next to her and gently touched her scratched cheek. She looked up, and the concern in those beautiful copper eyes made her lose her composure. She threw her arms around Daichi’s neck and wept into his collar.

“Daichi…” she whispered as he enveloped her in a hug.

“Shh, I know. I heard him... He certainly didn't trouble himself to keep quiet." Natsuki sobbed as he held her close, running his fingers through the strands of hair that had come undone from her braid, gently kissing her forehead. He wasn’t sure what to do; he had heard Akio’s ultimatum, but he didn’t want to lose her… but then, this wasn’t his judgment to make, either… and what other harm could Akio and Tatsuya do her for not cooperating? But for now, the only thing he could do was provide Natsuki with a safe place to be weak; she was as always so strong...

Natsuki felt like a fool, crying like a child, but in all honesty, she didn’t know what else to feel. And so she clung to Daichi as if her life depended on it. He may not be able to fight, but she felt safe in his arms; she always did. He held her for what seemed like hours, humming nonsense melodies into her ear. In his arms, she finally relaxed; her mind was still working as sharply as ever. Finally she sat up, wiping her eyes. 

"So what are you going to do?" Daichi asked quietly.

"I shall stand my ground, as Akio taught me." She turned to Daichi, standing quickly, pulling him up with her. When they were both standing, she threw her arms around his neck. "I love you, Daichi! I spent ten years without you, and I never want to do that again!" Daichi nuzzled the back of her neck, wrapping her tightly in his arms, stroking her shoulders.

"Likewise, Natsuki, I do not want to be without you, either."


	18. The Bloody Ruse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trick backfires spectacularly

After Akio's outburst, Natsuki turned in early for the night. She kissed Daichi goodnight, but did not invite him into her quarters; it was far too risky. Daichi had other plans anyway.

He made his way through the monastery until he found the man he's looking for. Iwao. He looked up from the scroll he was reading by candlelight at the younger scholar.

"Decided it would not be appropriate to spend the evening with Natsuki?" he asked nonchalantly. Daichi cast his eyes down, his cheeks reddening. Of course he heard what happened, the entire monastery had.

"No, sir. And I realize we have been wholly inappropriate, but…" Iwao sighed and waved his hand dismissively.

"But you are in love. Daichi, I understand. You have ignited a fire of love, but Akio seeks to douse the flame. You and Natsuki must decide whether your love will be extinguished, or whether it is a mere setback that will help your love burn brighter."

"We have decided we cannot be without one another again," Daichi said quietly, still looking at the floor. Iwao nodded.

"You realize that it is a dangerous path you will walk together. The Nagaryu are as bloodthirsty as they are cunning." Daichi's head snapped up.

"Nagaryu?" Iwao sighed.

"I had forgotten… did Natsuki tell you what she was?"

"She is a fox woman, a true Kitsune. She showed me when I proposed earlier." He smiled to think of that moment, before their hopes had been dashed. "She is so lovely with her fur…" Iwao nodded, then his face changed. He became like a tortoise, his voice becoming deeper and rumbling.

"I am a Kamekenmeina myself, a wise turtle. You are now a Shinjitsu-Ningen, a Truth Human. You now know of the Animaru Supiritto, the animal spirits. My race is quiet and peaceful, seeking knowledge; Natsuki is of the beautiful cunning fox people; the Okawa family are Nagaryu, a dangerous race of shapeshifting Dragon Men. They change at will into whomever they please. They have sharp claws and sharper wits. You and Natsuki are very brave to stand up to them. But stand up to them you must! Natsuki and Tatsuya are not well suited, and will be each other's destruction; Akio does not see this, but it is true." He shifted back to his human form. "But I see the opposite for you and Natsuki; you two shall create together, not destroy. That is why I have not reprimanded you for your… behavior… sneaking in and out of her chambers at all hours. You are a fine pair, and will make beautiful, strong, intelligent children… but first, we must free her of her obligations to the Okawa clan." He indicated a spot next to him, and Daichi sat.

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir."

Elsewhere in the monastery, Akio commanded his followers to begin packing, as they would leave in the morning. Sora and Hiro nodded, setting about their work; Akio bade Tatsuya and Jun to come with him. They stopped around the corner from Natsuki's room, and father turned to his sons.

"Jun," he whispered, "do you know that… scholar… that has been keeping Natsuki's company? The gangly one? With the curly hair and beard?" Jun nodded.

"Yes, father."

"I need you to be him." Jun made a face, which Akio ignored. "I need you to tell Natsuki that you have reconsidered, and she needs to fulfill her father's bargain, for her safety and for yours. Then kiss her and leave. Do not look back, do not answer questions. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"But wait, why does he get to kiss her?" Tatsuya interjected with a whine, "Why can't I kiss her? She is mine, after all!" Akio sighed at his younger son's obtuseness.

"Because then you will comfort her. Tell her we are leaving in the morning, offer to help her pack. She will be upset, and you will be there for her. Make her believe that you are actually worth marrying, you simpleton."

"Oh." Akio rolled his eyes as Jun transformed, and walked to Natsuki's door.

Jun knocked lightly on the door, feeling exasperated. Natsuki was a decent fighter, but not nearly worth all this trouble… Still, he had to please his father and help his brother with his future bride. The door opened, and Natsuki's tired face peeked out of the door. She sighed.

"What, Daichi?"

"Natsuki, may I come in?" Jun tried to mimic how the scholar talked and moved, but it was difficult to remember; he just hadn't paid that much attention to the man. She shook her head slightly.

"I do not think that is a good idea, as we discussed earlier. We shall speak in the morning." She attempted to close the door, but Jun stopped it with his foot. How dare this woman speak to him like this!

Natsuki looked down at his foot in the door, the wheels in her head spinning. Daichi would never do such a thing. Without a word, she opened the door and allowed him in. Jun looked around the small room, unaware of the intensity of the Kitsune's gaze. She knew this was not right, but she wasn't sure which of the Nagaryu this was; maybe he would reveal himself.

"What can I do for you, Daichi?" she asked innocently. Her faux lover turned back to her and focused.

"Yes, I have given it much thought, and… uh… I never want to see you again." His voice fell flat, and Natsuki raised an eyebrow. Jun backpedaled. He was not much of a diplomat, especially not in the form of another man.

"That is, I think for your safety and mine, we should part. You should marry my broth… your betrothed. It's what your father would want." Jun hoped that in her tired state, she would not notice his slip; it was apparent immediately that she had. Natsuki's arms crossed, and she stared hard at the man before her.

"Is that so? And how would you know what my father would want, Jun?"

"What makes you think I am Jun? Who is Jun?" he asked feebly, but his nervousness caused his scales to flash blue for a quick moment. With that confirmation, the Kitsune grabbed a what looked like a fan from her bed; a quick movement later, and the fan was revealed to be a tanto, which was pointed at Jun's nose.

"What are you playing at?" the Kitsune growled, and the door opened. Tatsuya and Akio stood at the door.

"What on earth is going on?" Akio growled. "I thought I told you to break it off with him! Why is he here?"

"Why is your son disguising himself as my future husband?" Natsuki responded; with another swift movement, she was behind Jun-Daichi, tanto at his throat. She put her lips close to Jun's ear.

"If you value your life, you will return to your normal form, and explain to me what you are doing." What neither Natsuki, Tatsuya, nor Akio expected was for Jun-Daichi to decide he had besmirched his family's honor, by being bested by a woman, and therefore needed to kill himself honorably. He let out a war cry before cutting his own neck on Natsuki's blade. Natsuki watched in shock as blood poured out of this facsimile of her lover as he continued to scream. There were shouts and voices, lamps lit over the walls, as seemingly the entire monastery converged upon Natsuki's quarters. Iwao and Daichi were among the first to arrive, and they seemed as dumbfounded as anyone as to why an exact copy of Daichi was writhing on the floor, bleeding profusely while seeming to flash blue. Natsuki dropped her tanto and ran to Daichi, throwing her arms around him. The bloody Daichi on the floor finally stopped moving, and he shifted back to his normal self. Akio turned to Iwao.

"She murdered my son! I must have vengeance!"

"No, no, no! He cut his own throat on my blade! He was pretending to be Daichi, and I don't know why…" Natsuki was nearly hysterical, having seen a vision of her beloved Daichi dying violently. She needed to breathe. As she did, Daichi took her hand, sending warmth straight to her heart. She looked up at Iwao; the older man looked furious.

"What is the meaning of this?" he boomed at Akio. "Why was Jun disguised as Daichi and in Natsuki's quarters?" He stared hard at the Dragon Men.

"Because we are leaving tomorrow," Tatsuya answered, seeming not at all concerned that his brother had just killed himself. Iwao shook his head.

"No, you are leaving now, along with Hiro and Sora. You four will take Jun's body, and you will never return here so long as I live. Be gone."

"What about Natsuki? She just murdered my son!" Akio yelled. Iwao raised his hand.

"Natsuki would not intentionally kill Daichi, even if she knew it was not truly him. I believe her; I think Jun probably killed himself because he could not outsmart her with… whatever this ruse was." He turned to the Kitsune. "I assume he was attempting to tell you, as Daichi, that you should marry Tatsuya?" Natsuki nodded.

"But he displayed too much force in trying to enter my room, and took too long looking at my quarters, a place the real Daichi knows well. He also called Tatsuya his brother by accident." Akio slapped his forehead.

"Idiot! This should have been simple enough! How could he have ruined it this spectacularly?"

"Jun's powers of observation were never the best." Tatsuya noted. Iwao rubbed his temples.

"It is just as well that you leave right now. Finish packing and be gone. Take the body with you." Tatsuya moved to grab Natsuki's arm, but was stopped by Iwao. "No, she stays. I will give you compensation for her care and training, but she stays here, and will be married to Daichi. And do not ever try to come back within these walls!"

Tatsuya opened his mouth to argue, but his father slapped a hand across his mouth.

"Yes, sir," the Dragon Man said, leading his son from the Kitsune's quarters with a smile and a voice like poisoned honey. "We will leave, and never darken your door again. Come, Tatsuya!" However, as he passed by Natsuki and Daichi, he looked the Kitsune in the eye and mouthed four words:

This is not over.


	19. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gloria reflects on Rosalee's training, while Rin makes Monroe another offer to get what she wants.

Gloria lightly knocked on the door to her daughter's room, carefully balancing a bowl of miso soup. She waited for a response, watching the small chunks of kombu float around in random patterns. Rosalee had always preferred miso when she was upset or sick, while Freddie and DeEtta gravitated toward American chicken soup. When there was no response, she pushed the door open, finding her daughter curled up in bed, her face pressed into a pillow. Gloria placed the soup on the nightstand, looking over the scene. It was wonderful to have her daughter back in her life, and Gloria had been ecstatic that Rosalee had finally gotten her act together and had chosen to marry a fine, upstanding man like Monroe. Gloria adored her future son-in-law, mostly for the way that he treated her Rosie; It broke her heart to think of him being used as bait to lure the Kitsune out of hiding. Rosalee had promised that all loose ends were tied up…

Rosalee started mumbling something, but did not move. Gloria stood still; she knew better than to startle her daughter when she was waking up. One accidentally broken nose when Rosalee was seventeen had been more than enough to teach Gloria to keep her distance until Rosalee was cognizant of her surroundings. After a moment, Gloria relaxed; Rosie was talking in her sleep. But the next word Rosalee said gave her mother pause.

"Nagaryu."

Strange… perhaps being dragged back into her former life was giving Rosalee dreams about training with Shiro. Gloria remembered Shiro, how he had been a stern master. Perhaps too stern, as Rosalee had tearfully begged to end her training with him when she was sixteen, with two years left. When pressed for a reason, she wouldn't give one, but Gloria couldn't force her daughter to train with someone she didn't want to train with. Rosalee finished her training under Chiyumi, a Tora-Kakure, or Hidden Tiger; Gloria couldn't remember for sure, but she thought they were called Rissfleich in the Germanic. Chiyumi was a hard master to please, but Rosalee managed, and was much happier… for a while, anyway. Then she had become a drug-addled mess. Gloria scolded herself for thinking so negatively. Rosie was clean and sober now, and had a good man to keep her in line; maybe she would finally get some grandkids, too. She bowed slightly to her sleeping daughter, and quietly exited the room, closing the door behind her.

* * *

Elsewhere, Monroe awoke to the smell of meat. Rosalee's form entered with a tray full of food: steak, bread, potatoes, something that looked like green beans.

"I'm a vegetarian," he grumbled as she drew closer. "You can stop pretending to be Rosalee." A ripple of red, and the Japanese woman was again standing next to him, looking disappointed.

"Well, I tried," she muttered. Monroe's stomach growled loudly. "I was hoping we might make an arrangement. You give me what I want, and I will feed you." She picked up a green bean and dangled it over his face, near his mouth. Monroe sighed; her persistence was exhausting.

"No." As he opened his mouth, she attempted to drop the legume into it; it missed, and fell onto his chest.

"Are you sure?" she asked, "You haven't eaten in so long…"

"No." She dropped another bean next to the first. He sighed. He was so tired of her shit. "You're making a mess, and you're not going to get what you want."

"What if I drop the steak on you?' Monroe's head fell back.

"What if you just went away and left me alone?" In all honestly, the silence and lack of human contact was agonizing, but dealing with this woman was worse. "Or what if you let me go get Rosalee? I'm sure she'll come back with me…" His stomach growled again against his will, and the woman held the bread over his face. For a moment it looked good, until he noticed that it wasn't exactly fresh.

"How old is that bread? Look at all the mold on it! And you want me to eat that? Gross!"

The woman's head fell back and she threw the bread across the room. Leaving the two green beans on his chest, she picked up the tray and swept out of the room again without a word, leaving Monroe once again alone.


End file.
